


THE FORCE WILLS DOCUMENTARY

by js71



Series: Assorted Star Wars Splashes (w/Dai Bendu) [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AGAIN?, Anakin Skywalker Eats Bugs, Appropriate Use of the Force, Aspec Jedi Icons, Dai Bendu, Defenestration, Disaster Lineage, Documentary, Force Healing (Star Wars), Force Sensitivity, Force Suppression (Star Wars), Gen, How is that not a tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Initiate Aayla Secura, Initiate Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Art, Jedi Children - Freeform, Jedi Culture & Tradition (Star Wars), Jedi History, Jedi Theatre, Jedi are Insane, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Love Does Not Equal Attachment, POV Outsider, POV Outsider on Jedi Order, Padawan Braids, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Platonic Relationships, Plo Koon is a Dad, Pre-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Pro-Jedi Order, STAR WARS FANDOM I AM DISAPOINTED IN YOU, Shatterpoint Lineage, The Force, The Jedi Order Deserved Better, Yoda Eats Bugs, Yoda is a Troll, You Knew That Though, Youngling Ahsoka Tano, again i have been disapointed by this fandom, and i will stand here and scream that to the world, but still not graphic, i am a stubborn idiot who refuses to back down, im going to go sob now, im my own beta fucking deal with it, jedi order treated like the order they are, not graphic or even seen at all i promise, thats a bit more obvious, thats also mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/js71/pseuds/js71
Summary: For years, the culture of the Jedi has remained largely untouchable by the public. What is known is diluted by rumours and the wear of time.In this series, we'll explore the origins of the Jedi Order,Their traditions,Their values and beliefs,And their lives.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Cal Kestis & Jaro Tapal, Caleb Dume & Depa Billaba, No Romantic Relationship(s), Plo Koon & Everyone, Quinlan Vos & Luminara Unduli & Obi-Wan Kenobi & Bant Eerin & Garen Muln & Siri Tachi
Series: Assorted Star Wars Splashes (w/Dai Bendu) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1977589
Comments: 65
Kudos: 348





	1. The Found Family of the Jedi

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Heart Language](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26104063) by [aroacejoot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroacejoot/pseuds/aroacejoot), [ghostwriterofthemachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriterofthemachine/pseuds/ghostwriterofthemachine), [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters). 
  * Inspired by [On Mindfulness](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26771284) by [virdant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant). 
  * Inspired by [Interviews](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22998730) by [BloodyDevil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyDevil/pseuds/BloodyDevil). 
  * Inspired by [Taking a Closer Look at the Jedi Order in Star Wars Canon [Meta/Reference Guide]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22039168) by [gffa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gffa/pseuds/gffa). 
  * Inspired by [Fallen Jedi Knights (Star Wars song)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/698350) by RoyishGoodLooks. 
  * Inspired by [Grandmaster Yoda Ahsoka](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/698440) by Aliche13's Art Blog. 
  * Inspired by [Yeet or be Yeeted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613157) by [virdant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virdant/pseuds/virdant). 
  * Inspired by [In which we burn bodies as bridges](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26288698) by [GraceEliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceEliz/pseuds/GraceEliz). 
  * Inspired by [Anakin Skywalker's Guide to Jedi Traditions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676224) by [loosingletters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loosingletters/pseuds/loosingletters). 
  * Inspired by [Cover Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23509630) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506). 



> **Word Notes:** I use people to mean sentients. It’s a human term, yes, but so is everything else in this story, since Star Wars does come from human imagination, so yeah. Chill?
> 
>  **Dai Bendu Notes:** It isn't my creation, nor I do I have a hand in developing it - you can find the developers through [this link](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885129/). Translations (as best as I could figure them, at least) are contained in the end notes.
> 
>  **Jedi Culture Notes:** I like the Jedi. I'm on their side, so I'm not going to tolerate any 'But the Jedi were X' comments here. Those will be deleted when I find them, so don't waste your time. This is fanfiction, and I'm going to throw the disclaimer that everybody hates to read out; if you don't like it, find something else to read. I'm sure there are a billion Jedi bashing fics out there, and this isn't one of them.
> 
>  **Jedi Culture Notes:** What you'll see in this is going to be a mixture of canon and headcanons. So, don't waste your time screaming about 'That's not how X works!'. Because this is fanfiction, guys. Canon is totally optional.
> 
>  **Writing Notes:** You might have noticed how I don't uppercase species type, like how I write "kel dor" instead of "Kel Dor". There's a reason for that. We don't, in the middle of a sentence, at least in English, uppercase "human" to be "Human", so why would we with togruta, or twi'lek?
> 
>  **Inspiration Notes:** I do have a lot of different things I'm mashing together. They _should_ all be credited correctly? If you notice they're not, reminding me ASAP would be appreciated, thank you. Not all the works that have a bit of inspiration for this one are on AO3; some YouTube videos and Tumblr posts also have a hand in it, just a heads up.
> 
>  **Trigger Warnings:** There shouldn't be any big ones. I'm saying it now, that in this universe I'm writing in, the Jedi are _very_ misunderstood and stereotyped, so that is going to affect how people treat them. Nothing is going to be shown in detail, as it is a documentary format, but characters will talk about it and show effects of the following: child abuse and abuse in general, bullying, there's some implied underage and non-con sexual stuff that is... yeah, we're not getting into that. Also, slavery. If you find something that is liable to be triggering for other people that I haven't warned about here, if you could alert me to that fact, I'd apprechiate it. In general, this should be a fairly safe read for everyone.

**THE FORCE WILLS: THE FOUND FAMILY OF THE JEDI**

Children were scattered throughout the room. They seemed to be between the ages of four and fifteen, and they all wore clothing any viewer would easily be able to recognize as that of the Jedi, the differences between each one as vast as the similarities. Murmurs filled the room, and the camera-droid panned to slowly show the full space, letting the viewers take in the scene, let them watch a human and togruta paint a toy spaceship with intense concentration, a group of children watching a holo-film together, others reading or talking or playing.

_ < For years, the culture of the Jedi has remained largely untouchable by the public. What is known is diluted by rumours and the wear of time. > _

The scene changed to show a trio of older children, in a room, seemingly alone. They sat on the ground, legs folded under them, and their hands on their knees. They were serene, and one after the other, spoke, as calm and collected as they could possibly be as they recited what seemed to be some sort of poem, or perhaps a lesson of some kind.

"When there is no emotion, there is peace."

"When there is no ignorance, there is knowledge."

"When there is no chaos, there is harmony."

_ < In this series, we'll explore the origins of the Jedi Order, > _

A stiff-backed, white-haired human woman led the camera-droid through a library. She walked between rows of shelves filled with holo-files, the lights glowing in shades of blue. The camera-droid panned up to show just how high the shelves went, the woman stepping into an open space, revealing how there were more floors, at least a dozen of them, all of them filled with shelves. There had to be millions of terabytes of information, stored on just one floor alone.

_ < Their traditions, > _

The kiffar from the earlier meditation scene was kneeling before an older man, who held a lightsaber over one of his shoulders, then the other, before holding it above the kiffar's head, and then lowering it to his side. Only his final words were audible to the viewers, the previous ones muted, unheard.

"Rise, Jedi Knight."

_ < Their values and beliefs, > _

"The code is open to interpretation," a young, blue-skinned twi'lek girl told the camera-droid, adjusting the cold-weather parka she wore, serious, with an undertone of excitement, enough excitement to power a city, even as she tried to contain it, "And there is no wrong way of doing that, so long as you stay within the kytal.”

_ < And their lives, > _

The shot changed to a wide-take of the Coruscant Jedi Temple, from afar. It zoomed out some more, showing a well-dressed zabrak, walking into frame, revealing them to be the speaker of the voice-over, their voice easy to listen to, and their body language relaxed, gesturing with their hands as they talked, making it easy to relax and follow along with the episode. "For the first time, a documentary crew is going to be able to experience the Jedi Order, unedited and in full sight. And we'll be sharing it all with you."

The footage cut to the narrator, who was about to step out of a speeder and onto the ground. A kel dor male in traditional Jedi robes offered the zabrak a hand up, and they took it, letting themself be helped. "Thank you."

"Of course," the kel dor murmured, bowing in return. "I am Master Plo Koon, of the Jedi Council."

"Drovu Ruri," the zabrak answered, starting to grin. "Should we get started?"

The episode cut to Master Koon leading Drovu into the Temple. There was a young twi'lek waiting there, in a sandy-tan tunic and worn leather boots. Dark brown cloth was wrapped around her lekku and head in an elegant, but simple pattern. She wasn't holding anything, but she was waiting, seemingly for Master Koon, as her eyes widened at the sight of Drovu and the camera-droid, before she turned to Master Koon, vaguely horrified.

"That's today?"

She was maybe twelve or so, and Master Koon chuckled, setting a four-fingered hand on her shoulder, and guiding her so she walked between him and Drovu, letting her lean slightly into his side. "Indeed, young one. You wanted to ask me something?"

"Oh - I was just wondering about Ilum?" She said, looking up at him, warm hope cascading over her features. "Because I _am_ almost thirteen, and I don't have a Master yet, and I was thinking that - it's about time, isn't it?"

"Soon," Master Koon promised, nudging her further into the Temple, and slightly away from him, a gesture that she needed to get going, that she was late for something, "But not today, Aayla. And I believe you have lessons, that you are skipping?"

She scowled half-heartedly at him, crossing her arms before looking away, muttering under her breath, the camera-droid narrowly managing to pick up the audio. "I'm not the only one skipping."

"And I am sure that someone is dragging Anakin back into galactic history as we speak," Master Koon told her, nudging her one again. Aayla began to walk away, only to turn so she was still facing Master Plo, Drovu, and the camera-droid.

"You better be right about that," she called, before running off. A shout of _Aayla, imkan!_ echoed through the hallways, and she visibly winced, slowing to a pace that was at the limit of walking, but not entirely running either, vanishing around a corner. Master Koon continued on as if nothing had happened, and Drovu took the opportunity to speak.

"I was under the impression that all Jedi children are assigned a Master?"

"You would be correct," Master Koon said, nodding, his head dipping in agreement, "But not entirely so. A Jedi Knight may choose a Padawan; often, the Padawan chooses the Master. Or, as my niece is fond of saying, a Padawan will decide they want a particular Master, and the Master has little choice but to agree. It's a fairly common occurrence."

"Ah," Drovu said, nodding in understanding. "How old are Padawans?"

"Most are chosen around the age of fifteen," Master Koon offered freely, without concern, "But there is no cut-off. Some are chosen older, and some are chosen younger. Most Padawan's will train under their Masters for slightly over a decade before they are Knighted."

"Do you have a Padawan?"

"Currently," Master Koon said, giving the impression he was grinning, despite his mask, "I do not. However, I do have the rank of Master, and have trained a Padawan."

"Rank of Master?" Drovu pressed, folding their hands behind his back, and walking alongside the Jedi, "What exactly does that mean? I've heard Knight and Master, but is there a difference?"

"Yes," Master Koon confirmed, pausing at a widow, through which were a group of older children, maybe seventeen standard years of age, around a holo-table, working on editing a holo-film. “A Knight is a Jedi who has not yet trained a Padawan. Once they do, they have the rank of Master. Most call anyone who is a Knight or higher a Master, as a sign of respect. Most outsiders will use Master as the umbrella term, which is, technically correct, as Sha constantly reminds me. But it is considered disrespectful to call a Master a Knight."

"I've been told there are nearly ten thousand Jedi. Do you occasionally mistake a Master for a Knight?"

"It has never happened, except in the case of the little ones," Master Koon said, which seemed quite unlikely to consider, but Drovu didn't mention that.

“That’s very interesting,” they acknowledged, and both they and Master Koon continued on, voices lost to a voice-over.

_ < The Jedi Order is a community and within that community, have different groups. Within the Order, they call these different groups ranks, and they, from the smallest Foundlings to Master Yoda, call the Coruscant Temple home. Master Plo has arranged for us to meet some of the youngest in the Temple. > _

The scene changed to show Master Plo leading Drovu and the camera-droid into a room, the one from the original opening shot. Children are scattered about, chattering with each other, but at the sight of Master Plo, one togruta girl, the one painting toy ships with an older human boy, scrambles to her feet, and runs over to him, wrapping her arms around his stomach as best she could.

“Jersara Master Plo!” She chirped, beaming up at him, and he crouched down, so she could look at him without straining her neck. “You have a friend!”

“Indeed, I do,” Master Plo agreed, running his hand over the girl’s montrals, gently. She laughed, and leaned around him, to look at Drovu, who was also kneeling. She pulled away from Master Plo, and shuffled over to the zabrak, her eyes wide, a toothy smile revealing gummy, but pointed teeth, and there was a strange air about her. As if she knew exactly who Drovu was, despite just meeting them.

She was in leggings, pale like the stone walls of the temple, and a tunic slightly darker. On the cloth belt of the tunic, she stored paintbrushes, a bundle of dried plants, and a small stuffed tooka. Framing her face was a simple cloth headdress that covered between her montral peaks and the sides of her lekku, almost bearing a resemblance to Aayla. Multicoloured paint was splattered all across her. “Who’re you?”

“I’m Drovu,” Drovu answered, and she nodded seriously, bowing to them.

“Pecha, Drovu. I am Ahsoka Tano.”

She turned back to Master Plo, and tugged on his hand, pulling him after her, towards the boy she was painting with earlier. Drovu and the camera-droid followed. The boy didn’t look up at any of them, laying on his stomach, very carefully doing detail work with a fine brush. He was about nine or so, with light brown hair, his clothing and hands also smeared with paint. 

“Jersara, Master Plo,” he said, tilting his head to the side, looking at his artwork. He frowned and narrowed his eyes, the ship lifting from the ground, and giving him a better angle to work at. Drovu gasped softly at the casual display, and Master Plo knelt nearby, on the clear plastic that had been taped down so the children could paint freely. “Does this look good?”

“The best,” the togruta said, nodding, and, with impressive maturity for a seven-year-old, dipped a paintbrush in a handmade clay pot of blue, and began to slather it on her ship, filling between the lines someone had already sketched out. The boy made a face that was difficult to understand.

“Ahsoka, you always say that.”

“It’s true,” Ahsoka said, going right to the pre-existing lines of her ship, and painting along with them. “And I'm right.”

The boy muttered something under his breath, and Master Plo said something in return, the language unique and no translations were given. If the way Drovu looked back and forth between the two, they didn't understand either. Master Plo, after a beat of silence, spoke in Basic, reassuring and kind. “Anakin, it looks wonderful.”

“You always say that,” Anakin grumbled. “You’re our jaieh, that’s your job.”

Drovu glanced at the camera-droid, clearly confused by the unfamiliar word, but they didn’t interrupt the moment to ask.

“And it’s a good job, but, you _are_ supposed to be in class.”

“Jaieh,” Anakin whined, dropping his head into the crook of his elbow, and muttering into it. “No.”

“Haj dai,” Master Plo said, the toy ship faltering in the air for a moment as if he’d taken control of it away from Anakin, who was certainly pouting enough for that to be true. “Jaieh Nu kytal wan,”

“Wan,” Ahsoka repeated, pulling her bush away from her ship, and sounding the word out. “Waaan. Wan!”

She started to laugh to herself, pleased, and Anakin lifted his head to look at her, smiling slightly at the sight. He sighed, and pushed himself up, dropping the paintbrush into a small thing of water, and heading off, after an exchange of farewells. Ahsoka hummed to herself, continuing to paint. The voice-over returned, the camera-droid focused on the girl.

_ < Ahsoka Tano is a Youngling from Shili. She was discovered by Master Plo himself after her parent’s message to the Temple was intercepted by a bounty hunter, who attempted to take her away. She’s also agreed to speak with me today. > _

The scene cut to show Ahsoka sitting cross-legged in a different room, on a rug, almost like a prayer mat. She’s speaking quietly to herself, repeating a mantra of sorts, warm sunlight streaming in, illuminating the plants around her. “Xaipadenah fahk widen rah'eni'ak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh. Xaipadenah fahk widen anohrah'ak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh. Xaipadenah fahk widen kai'an'ak ru kaitalak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh.

She opens her eyes, and smirks at the camera-droid, in a way only a child can, before looking up at Drovu, who’d just come into the room. The camera-droid panned to follow her gaze, and Drovu glanced around, before asking.

“Do I bow?”

“Only if you want to,” Ahsoka said with a shrug. “We only bow when it’s all formal and respectful. And to say hi. But you can if you want.”

Drovu hesitantly bowed, and Ahsoka clapped for them, her gaze following them as they came to sit down on the ground near her, copying her position. “So, Ahsoka. You came to the Jedi when you were - four? Five?”

She shook her head. “I was three.”

“That’s pretty young.”

Ahsoka shrugged. “Kinda. It depends though. My parents called the Jedi ‘cuz they wanted what was best for me, but some people…” she bit her lip, looking at the floor. “Cal? His parents were really scared. They tried to - uh - they tried to - they were xari. Dark. Hurt him, wanted him to stop it.”

Drovu nodded slowly and seriously, expression mournful. “Is this common?”

Ahsoka drummed her fingers on her knees. “Yeah. People get scared. And sometimes they want to use us for -” she shivered all over, hugging herself, and pulling her knees in close. “Not nice things.”

Drovu’s expression said that they didn’t even want to know anything further than that. Ahsoka didn’t elaborate, straightening up after a moment. “But that’s why we look! For each other, I mean. So that we can help each other. And that’s how I knew that the bounty hunter was bad.”

“How exactly?”

Ahsoka bit her lip again. “He felt wrong. Kinda like xari, but that wasn’t it. Cold. And sharp - not the good kind of sharp, like Obi-Wan. That’s the good kind. He was the bad kind, and rough.” She scowled. “It didn’t feel nice. Master Plo felt good though. Warm, and happy and glad to sense me.”

“And what do I feel like?” Drovu asked, and Ahsoka considered it. She leaned towards Drovu, reaching for their hand, and wrapping her fingers around theirs. She squeezed her eyes shut, face scrunching up in concentration.

“Kinda wobbly,” she decided, eyes still shut, head moving back and forth as if following an irritating little bug as it buzzed its way around her in slow-motion. “Like when trees are caught in a really strong wind. Uh... kinda like anohrah, but not so much. More like, you spend lots of time in your anohrah .”

“Anohrah?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What does anohrah mean?”

“It’s the Temple,” Ahsoka said, leaning back into her previous position, and lacing her fingers together, cupping her hands, as if representing something. “It’s home, but better. It’s full of kytal and kyan and ankyia and rah'iel.”

“And what are those things?”

Ahsoka stared at them for a moment, then at the camera-droid, before looking back to Drovu. Finally, she twisted in her seat, calling out in the odd lilting language. “Paden dai bendu?”

 _“Haj dai, 'Soka'shee,”_ Master Plo called from out of the camera-droids range. Ahsoka turned back around and nodded.

“Dai Bendu. It’s our language. It’s from super-long ago like Ahch-To is. _Kaital_ is what we call the Light Side of the Force, and _ankyia_ is our - uh, heartsong? Lovesong? Songmate? Like what kyber crystals feel like. And _rah'eni_ is a sibling. But it means more. Basic is like… just the words. Dai Bendu is what the words mean in the Force.”

“That sounds wonderful. Can you teach me some?”

“Guess so? Um…” she glanced around, before pointing off to the side. “ Jaieh means a Master. Someone who’s earned the rank of it, who deserves it and the Council recognizes it too. And to greet a jaieh is to jersara. So, to say hi to Master Plo, I’d say jersara jaieh Plo. ”

“Jersara jaieh Plo,” Drovu repeated, slower. Ahsoka grinned, and they smiled back. “Is that right?”

She lifted a hand, and shook it side to side, in a so-so gesture. “Your accent needs work. And your sense is all wonky. But mostly your accent."

“Is it?” Drovu said, laughing with Ahsoka, who nods, holding a fist to her mouth, and trying not to laugh. All the same, the scene cuts, ending with Ahsoka snickering to herself, repeating the phrase quietly, grinning uncontrollably. 

_ < Ahsoka’s story is far from unique in the Jedi Order. > _ Drovu narrated, over footage of history, showing the Great Burning of Force-sensitives nearly twelve thousand years prior, news reports of Padawans gone missing, or Younglings found, starved to death in tiny cells, and several other horrors. _ < Those who have been able to sense the Force have been long sought-after for many things. To act as enforcers, to harm for the pleasure of it, to sell to the highest bidder, or simply because they have an ability that others do not understand, an ability that lets them live lives far different from any non-Force-sensitive. _

_ < Unfortunately, many of the children in the Jedi Order are the victims of attacks from their family members and parents. Jedi Mind Healers, what we might call therapists, do a great deal of work to help the members of the Jedi Order process their trauma. Master Plo has brought us to the Halls of Healing meet Padawan Bant Eerin, who is in training to be a Jedi Healer, under Master Volkara Che. > _

The scene cut to a peaceful long take of the healing halls, following Drovu through them, passing by a few injured Jedi. One old man, playing cards with a dangerously skinny pale-skinned girl, likely his Padawan, both of them in hospital beds, and using the Force to hold their cards. Past a red-haired Youngling that waved at them, even as a violet-furred lasat studied his x-ray scans, which showed that the boy had previously broken his leg. And a kiffar, who had Aayla sitting at the foot of his bed, talking to him animatedly. Near one of the exits, a Mon Cala female with coral-pink-red skin tones was reading through a data-pad, looking up when Drovu and the camera-droid got close. She set the data-pad down, and moved forwards, bowing in greeting.

“Welcome, Drovu, to the Halls of Healing. I am Padawan Bant Eerin.”

“Thanks for having me,” Drovu answered, and Bant shook their hand when it was offered. “You’re a healer in training, right?”

Bant nodded, gesturing for Drovu to walk with her. “I am. But you wanted to talk about Mind Healers, correct?”

“That was the plan.”

She smiled, and folded her hands behind her back, in a very Jedi way. “The first thing to know is that Mind Healers are a very large group. And therapists outside of the Order don’t have the same training our Mind Healers do.”

“Because of the Force.”

“In part, yes,” Bant agreed, “But our correction to it would be more accurate. If you’d like, I can do a demonstration later. Until then, I’ll do my best to explain.

“Mind Healer is the umbrella term for a group of healers. All our healers are trained to have some knowledge within the area like all Jedi are trained to know some healing. But within the Mind Healer term, we have two sub-terms. They don’t have names, but rather, roles. One who speaks with you, as a therapist would, and one who heals. It’s not healing like how we heal medicine, but it’s also very difficult to explain in words.”

 _ < In short, due to their connection to the Force and each other, > _ Drovu filled in, over Bant, who had been stumbling through an explanation, doing her best, _ < They’ve developed far more mental, emotional, and spiritual healing techniques than contemporary therapists. A trade-off of this is that the treatments are developed for Force-sensitives, to be used on other Force-sensitives. However, some of them, like the one Bant is going to perform on me, have been adapted to non-Force-sensitives. > _

The scene cut to a private room, similar to the one Ahsoka was interviewed in. It was darker, lit by a few candles here and there, and full of plants. Drovu was laying on their back on a sort of rug, while Bant moved around the room, collecting items and using a motor and pedestal with the Force, grinding leaves and roots down into a fine powder as she lit incense sticks.

“Should it smell that strongly?” Drovu asked cautiously. Bant glanced over, taking the motor and pedestal out of the air, and using her hands to work it instead.

“Yes,” She said, a look of concern passing over her. “If it’s too strong, I can get something to negate -”

“It’s alright,” Drovu assured her, “Just a bit surprised. What exactly are you doing?”

“It’s been proven that traditional medicine, such as the human practice of smudging, has positive results, so long as you stay away from allergies. Originally, smudging was used to purify someone of negative thoughts; we still use it like that now. And smudging isn’t just a human practice. Zabraks have used it for thousands of years as well.”

“I learned about that in school,” Drovu nodded, smiling. “It’s got to do with chemicals in the brain, I think.”

Bant shrugged. “I’m not the science-healer. I work with the Force, not formulas, so maybe. I don’t actually know. You’re probably right. In any case, the smudging helps with minor illness. Headaches, minor pain, head colds. It also helps you relax, which, when using the techniques I’m going to use on a non-Force-sensitive such as yourself, is really important.”

“And why exactly is it so important?”

Bant paused, closing her eyes for a moment. “You have natural mental shields, of course, but if you have any degree of control over them, it’s not going to be much. If I were to prod at the wrong section of your mind, or you wanted to throw me out for whatever reason, it wouldn’t be done safely and could hurt us both.

“The scents are meant to help you relax. Make it safer for us both.”

She shook the dust she’d been grinding into a small hand-held pot, and put on the lid. She shook it around for a bit to mix it into the water, then kelt knelt beside Drovu, and offered it to them. They sat up, taking the pot from her, and glancing at her face. “What’s this for?”

“Same thing as the incense. Just a different plant. It’s safe for you, I promise.”

They sipped at it and immediately gagged on the taste. “Oh. Ah. Uh…”

She smiled, taking the cup from them, and floating it over to a shelf with the Force. “That’s the usual reaction. In any case, we’re going to start soon. All you need to do is relax. You’ll have full control over your body while this is happening, and if, at any point, you want me to stop, please say it aloud, or something similar. I - do not want to get thrown out of your head today.”

“I’ll try my best.”

She grinned at them, in a way that said _oh, I’m going to enjoy this_. “Do or do not. There is no try.”

“What does that -”

“We’re starting now.” Bant set a hand on Drovu’s stomach, webbed fingers spread wide, and one on their forehead. She closed her eyes and murmured two words. “Haj dai.”

A faint blue light came from her hands, barely visible. It pulsed like a heartbeat, thrumming slowly, and Bant inhaled slowly. Drovu did the same, perfectly in time with her. They both exhaled together, waited a moment, and breathed in again. The pattern continued for a few moments, and then the scene was sped-up, the camera-droid slowly circling around the pair as the session wore on. Drovu’s voice-over returned.

_ < Bant’s healing was a painless process. All I felt was a slight itch in my head, which she reassured me was perfectly normal. Her session took place over an hour and was one of the most relaxing experiences I have ever had. During it, she performed a sort of mental check, before what she later described as an untangling of stress. _

_ < Jedi Mind Healing such as this isn’t a replacement for therapy or other sorts of healing. Like how many sentients will combine different medical practices, such as cupping and physiotherapy, mental untangling has the best results when combined with other medical practices, notably spoken therapy. > _

The episode cut to a new scene. It was a room full of light and full of fountains, dozens of them, all of them different sizes. In a nearby one, a group of children were playing, supervised by Anakin and Aayla, along with a mikkian girl. The children were splashing around, swimming without a care in the world. Drovu sat on the edge of a different fountain, one that was much smaller, the voice-over continuing.

_ < This is the Room of a Thousand Fountains, a popular relaxation location in the temple after Healing Sessions, and a popular location for the Younglings to play. Ahsoka went through many sessions with the Mind Healers and often comes here before and after them. The only information that was shared with me on the subject of her sessions was that she still returns for regular monthly visits. And Ahsoka isn’t the only one. > _

The camera-droid zoomed in on Anakin and Aayla. They were sitting on the edge of the pool, their legs in the water, talking to each other.

_ < Anakin, before being found, was a slave on Tatooine. He was found when he was three, after his mother's death. He also visits the Mind Healers regularly, as does Aayla, who was neglected by her family, until she was found by Quinlan Vos, one of Bant’s agemates. It's not seen as something shameful to the Jedi, but rather something important. I suppose that is a reasonable conclusion for a group of empaths; trauma is a painful thing to bear alone._

_ < And to be a Force-sensitive child is one of the most dangerous things possible. Under Galactic Law, should members of the Jedi Order find a child in such a situation, they are legally allowed, and encouraged, to take the child out of the situation. However, if the child is being well-cared for, the parent may choose to keep them, and are given time to make their decision - usually a period of several months, up to a year and a half. Which raises the question - > _

Drovu turned to the camera-droid, who had turned its focus back to them. They spoke aloud. “Where does the idea that Jedi are child thieves come from?”

The camera-droid cut to a shot of the library seen in the opening of the episode. It was a quiet space, large and open, with people scattered through it. Aayla was leading the camera-droid and Drovu through the space, her lekku swaying as she moved quickly, heading towards a circular desk in the middle of the space. There had been some time since she first met Drovu, as her headwraps were different in their arrangement, and her robes were also new.

_ < The Jedi Temple Library. Some say it’s the largest collection of information in the Republic. It’s certainly one of the oldest, of that, there is no doubt. > _

“Jersara, jaieh Nu,” Aayla greeted, bowing to the woman behind the desk, a human with silver-white hair twisted back up into a bun, her robes a pale golden colour close to creamy-white, her posture tall and strong. “I brought the data-pads back, where do you want them?”

“You can put them over there,” the woman, Master Nu, said, gesturing towards a different section of the desk, where a young, red-skinned mikkian girl was sitting, scowling. “Initiate Tiplee was caught sneaking out _again_ , and she’ll be glad to put them away for you.”

Tiplee spluttered, offended, and Aayla laughed, dropping the small stack of files down before the mikkian, leaning on the desk and propping her chin up with a fist. “Where were you going this time?”

Their conversation was blocked out by the editing, as Master Nu turned her focus to the camera-droid and Drovu. She smiled at them, dipping her head in a partial bow. “Welcome to the Archives, Drovu Ruri.”

The scene cut to Master Nu sitting in an armchair, across from Drovu, relaxed. Through a pane of glass, a viewer could see into the Archives, indicating they hadn't gone far. Master Nu was already speaking, without any prompting from Drovu.

“I’m quite sure that the idea that Jedi are child-stealers stems from abuse.”

Drovu blinked, caught off-guard by the candid honesty that the librarian had. She nodded, serious.

“I’m not about to tone it down, young one, so I do suggest that if you have a sensitive stomach, you tell me now.”

They swallowed, fingers digging into the armrests of their chair, but nodded, jaw set. “Go ahead, Master Nu.”

She waved a hand. “Might as well call me Jocasta, considering what we’re about to talk about.”

“Alright. Go ahead, Jocasta.”

She laced her fingers together, settling them in her lap, and began to speak. Her voice became a voice-over, narrating over images that supported what she was saying, an animation of a timeline of sorts, with dates and names and images of different sentients and planets throughout it.

_ < Many people abuse Force-sensitives. One of the reasons our Order was founded was to protect Force-sensitives from this abuse. They’re scared you see; when children can sense your emotions and make things float and when they cry they break things, people tend to get scared. They try to beat it out of the children, which doesn’t help matters, and some cultures or families, once their child’s abilities become clear, kill them outright. Drowning is common, along with decapitation - thought to prevent them from coming back to life - and burning. > _

Over her words, visual aids were shown, adding to the mental picture she was building. 

_ < And once you are accepted into the Order, the abuse does not always stop. We do not harm our young, but there are many ways to hurt someone. Bullying is fairly common when we go on field trips, and Padawan’s are often targeted by slave traders, for many purposes. Some cultures even put rewards on the death of a Force-sensitive, in a sort of hunt. They rarely take Knights and Masters, seeing them as too powerful, but will not hesitate to try and steal Padawans. _

_ < There is something called a Force-suppression collar. > _

The sentence was supported by an image of the thing. It looked almost like a bomb collar, heavy and sick and wrong, made out of metal that would clamp around a neck.

_ < They’re a Sith invention from the Jedi-Sith wars. We’re not entirely sure how they work, but they do, and it’s very painful for any Force-sensitive. Some have compared it to losing eyesight, or the ability to hear, but that is an understatement. To wear one of these collars is torture for any Force-sensitive, no matter who they might be. > _

Drovu gagged, the visuals cutting back to the interview room. They looked like they were about to vomit, while Jocasta had an entirely blank expression on, with the faintest touches of pure fury tangled within it. Her hands were clasped tightly, her pale skin going even whiter with how tight she was holding on. “If you need a moment,” she said, sounding remarkably calm and collected, “You may take it.”

“They use these collars,” Drovu said, very slowly, not wanting to know the answer, “On children?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my - what the - please, please say you’re lying.”

“I am not lying to you.”

“I am -” Drovu gagged a final time, holding their hands over their mouth. They let out a shaky breath, then looked back up at Jocasta. “I may need to hit something, after this.”

She smiled thinly. “It would not be the first time a reaction such as yours has been carried out. I can show you to the sallés after this if you want to follow through.”

“I - will probably take you up on that,” Drovu said, straightening up, and letting out a heavy breath. “You can continue. I’m okay.”

However, the rest of the interview, if it was ever even filmed, was cut, as the episode came to an end. The final scene was of Drovu, sitting back in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, their voice-over a great deal meeker than before.

 _ < It’s a horrifying thought, > _ they said, their gaze on the pool where the Younglings had been, and the shot was overlaid with the one from earlier, making it appear like the children who’d been playing there were still playing, only as ghosts. _ < That anyone would do such a thing to a child. And to know that, other than the collars and the abuse they face, they’re constantly shunned by others. It is my hope that this documentary will bring these injustices to light, and help us understand the Jedi Order better than ever before. > _

The episode ended there, fading to black. The title came into focus, white text outlined with gold and blue and green, the silhouette of the Coruscant Jedi Temple fading in behind the words; _THE FORCE WILLS_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Kaital:** Light Side of the Force
> 
>  **Imkan:** no running
> 
>  **Jersara:** greeting someone of higher rank, respectful
> 
>  **Pecha:** standard greeting
> 
>  **Jaieh:** “jedi master” or “someone who is recognized as a master”
> 
>  **Haj dai:** lit. “Force wills”, used most often as “yes” but depends on the context
> 
>  **Wan:** to be taught, to learn
> 
>  **Xari:** the Dark Side, but not necessarily Sith
> 
>  **Anohrah:** home, usually the main Jedi Temple, a place that is warm and full of life
> 
>  **Ankyia:** lit. “heartsong”, but means soulmate (platonic or romantic, see context)
> 
>  **Rah'eni kat fehl:** lit. "sibling of me", but means "my sibling"
> 
>  **Paden:** to guide, to teach (someone else)
> 
>  **'Soka'shee:** "little Ahsoka", nickname
> 
>  **Xaipadenah fahk widen rah'eni'ak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh:** Force wills to guide me in defending my siblings who I love.
> 
>  **Xaipadenah fahk widen anohrah'ak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh;** Force wills to guide me in defending my home which I love.
> 
>  **Xaipadenah fahk widen kai'an'ak ru kaitalak kat fehl naki epalak tarii'ah foh:** Force wills to guide me in defending the inner peace and light I love.
> 
>  **Haj dai, sedorem:** Force wills what I say is true.
> 
> This story is told from the POV of Drovu, the audience, and their camera-droid(s), so that's going to affect some things; like how at the start, I called Plo Koon "Master Koon" before it trickled down into something less formal-ish. It's going to affect how some things are presented, but it's fairly fun. 
> 
> Plo Koon's body language is a pain in the _ass_. So much. For more than one reason. First of all, his mouth is weird, and you don't even see it, so you can't use _smile_ or _smirk_ or _grin_ , and you don't see his eyes either, which isn't all too helpful. His body language is painful to drudge through, never write him if you hate writing body language. On the plus side, it's a great exercise in learning how to write body language.
> 
> With great alacrity, I have thrown a chunk of canon out the window. Namely the entire ageing-out thing. Considering that when Ahsoka was assigned to Anakin at 13 he questioned if she was even old enough to be a Padawan, I don't agree with the "ageing out at 13" idea.
> 
> So, in canon, Jocasta Nu is often called "Madame". There's no Dai Bendu word for that, so I went with the logical choice; context means a lot. So, depending on how _jaieh_ is pronounced, and to who and when and all that jazz, it'll mean different things. Since Dai Bendu is a language created by Force-sensitives, the context and meaning are altered by their Force-presence and the like. That should pop up at some point in the future. Actually, there was a bit of a set-up for the future in this chapter. Surprisingly more than I expected, but not much.
> 
> Also, in regards to Dai Bendu; those who actually are making it were kind enough to offer more accurate translations; thank you guys, that was really helpful, and I have updated translations and all the jazz. And no. I have no clue how I'm apparently really good at using made-up languages in stories. I did try to write a story entirely in Mando'a once - it was never published, I wrote it on paper, and... I lost that paper - so I kinda have some experience. In any case, translations are always going to be welcome.


	2. Storytelling and the Force

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some links about how I see the Jedi and the supporting evidence (also cool stuff):  
> [Tumblr Link](https://laciefuyu.tumblr.com/post/631530268455518208/jedi-philosophy-part-2)  
> [YouTube Link](https://youtu.be/QxM-f_YfDBo)  
> [Tumblr Link](https://gffa.tumblr.com/post/621854211867623424/can-you-elaborate-on-what-you-meant-by-comparing%0A%20rel=)  
> [Tumblr Link](https://smhalltheurlsaretaken.tumblr.com/post/625005343701860352/the-jedi-in-yodas-vision-of-a-world-at-peace)  
> 

**THE FORCE WILLS: STORYTELLING AND THE FORCE**

The episode opened with a shot of a stage, from within the audience. It was sped up, so within a few moments, the entire theatre was full of Jedi. The voice-over began, the scene slowing to real-time. As the voice-over played, the lights dimmed, and the curtains separated, to show a group of children on the stage, set up so they were staggered on steps, ensuring they were all visible.

_ < Storytelling is a vital aspect of every culture in the galaxy, from the ice-cold lands of Pantora to the prairies of Shili. The Jedi Order is no different; only, their storytelling is difficult to access to non-Force-sensitives. All the same, there’s something about watching children put on a play that can always make you smile. > _

The Jedi children were singing. They weren’t the best at it, even as a Bant Eerin, who was standing before the stage guided them in their foot-stomping, hand-clapping motions. Most of them were dressed up in costumes that made no sense - Ahsoka Tano was visible wearing a green headband with what look likes leaves attached to either side, and a small, red-haired human was wearing a headdress that bore a resemblance to a tholothian’s head tendrils, despite a tholothian being a few steps away from him.

One of the children, who didn’t seem to remember what they were supposed to be doing, jumped up and down, waving and not singing along, shouting for someone instead. “Jaieh Mundi! Jaieh Mundi! Look!"

Genuine laughter rippled through the crowd, and the camera-droid moved to show Drovu, who’d been enjoying the play so far. Now, they leaned towards the camera-droid, speaking in a low voice, so as not to disturb anyone else who might be watching. “I’ve been told that Jedi art is intended to be enjoyed by everyone, Jedi or not. However, I’ve also been told that their ability to communicate emotions and memories without gestures or speaking makes seeing a Jedi play something that only Force-sensitives can enjoy as intended. All the same, I’ve been invited by Master Feemor to explore their storytelling.”

The song ended, and Drovu glanced at the stage, before grinning at the camera-droid. “Looks like the first act. Better settle in.”

The scene cut to Drovu, the theatre near-empty as they walked down the aisle. A light-skinned human was sitting on the stage, in a Jedi’s clothing. He looked up from his data-pad when the camera-droid and Drovu got close. He slid off the stage, bowing in greeting. “Welcome to our theatre, Drovu. Glad you could make it.”

“Thank you for having me,” Drovu replied, glancing at the Jedi’s data-pad. “It was a lovely play.”

Feemor laughed. “It’s an original. Some of the older Initiates wrote it a few years ago, and it’s become a tradition for the Younglings to perform it.”

_ < The play, titled Master Yoda’s Stew, is based around the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, Yoda, and his famous stew. Like most Jedi plays, it combines your regular theatre experience with some Force tricks, which Feemor has offered to explain to us. > _

The episode cut to Feemor and Drovu both sitting in the audience seats, interview-style. Feemor began without needing to be prompted.

“For the Younglings, we don’t use a lot of Force-abilities. They’re Younglings, so they already have enough going on remembering their lines and where they’re supposed to go. We mostly use the Force to guide them - you’ll remember that everyone started to laugh, about halfway through the play?”

Drovu nodded, and there was a quick flashback of the recorded event before it returned to the interview. Feemor grinned. “One of the Younglings was supposed to be on-stage. We were trying to find them, and well, we couldn’t, so one of the Initiates decided to do the mental equivalent of a public service announcement.”

Drovu chuckled. “That would do it. And the older kids?”

“Our Initiates start to use more advanced techniques. In our storytelling, we use emotions to convey our ideas, and that starts with the Initiate level. It’s easiest to feel if you’re strong with the Force, but all beings have a low-level of Force-sensitivity, what you might call instincts or intuition, meaning that anyone would get a vague sense of it. In - “ Feemor said something that Drovu’s expression clearly informed anyone watching that they wouldn’t even try to repeat it, “ -we use a lot of it, to set the scene, like how lights and sound work.”

“That’s fascinating.”

Feemor smiled, moving to stand up. “Want a backstage tour?”

“Absolutely.”

Feemor led them through the curtains, which he held back with the Force so that the camera-droid didn’t run into the heavy material, and so not to ruin it. Revealing a fairly regular backstage, with drop sheets and paint cans shoved up against the walls, almost put away, but not quite, and with nobody in sight but Feemor and Drovu. Feemor then gestured, leading them to a backstage room, which he opened with a keycode, revealing the costume room. A togruta man around Feemor’s age was using the Force to arrange the costumes and other items, in boxes, humming to himself. He looked up when they entered, but said nothing. After a moment, he went back to work.

“This is our costume department,” Feemor said, leading the camera-droid and Drovu around the togruta, “We lend out a lot of them to school groups whenever possible, and make them by hand if possible.”

Feemor continued the costume tour, pulling out some fake weapons for bounty hunter productions, some headdresses for royalty, coats and shoes and all sorts. After that, they were led around the backstage, Feemor pointing out things that had been used in Master Yoda’s Stew, yet to be put away. Darth Sii’s cloak and lamp, the set, and some of the costumes. 

They then returned to the main stage, where some Padawans were trying to wrangle themselves into even just the vaguest semblance of order, most of them in lightly-coloured tunics, all of them with lightsaber hilts visible. None of them had cloaks, and they were failing to self-organize.

In the wings of the curtains, his back to Feemor, Drive, and the camera droid, was a human, his hands folded behind him, and he was whispering to himself. The camera-droid picked up on the words but no translation was given for the Dai Bendu. It almost sounded like a prayer.

“You going to organize yourselves?” Feemor asked jokingly, easily looping an arm around the kid’s shoulders, and grinning down at him. The Padawan looked up and sighed heavily.

“Haj dai, jaieh.”

Feemor laughed, looking over the other Padawans. A mirialan girl with dark green clothing, a matching hood pinned tightly into place around her head was arguing with a kiffar boy who had a stripe of yellow across the bridge of his nose and under his cheeks. A blonde human girl sat on the edge of the stage, her legs swinging back and forth, studying her lightsaber with what looked like feigned interest. Bant was braiding the girl’s hair, a string of metal beads hanging from behind the Mon Cala’s right ear. The last Padawan was tossing random items in the air, and trying to play some version of bumper cars with them, using the Force.

“Not sure that’ll go right, ibli rah'eni kat fehl,”

“Whoa,” the blonde girl at the edge of the stage, who wasn’t even facing them said, her tone deadpan, “Are the Jinn siblings showing attachment towards each other? No way, what horror.”

“Cadeo!” The kiffar shouted with far too much joy, breaking off from the argument, and throwing his hands in the air, only to grab the shorter human who was beside him, and cover his ears with both hands. “Cadeo, ibli Garen!”

“Shut up, Quinlan,” Garen hissed, pulling away from the taller boy, who was grinning like a crazy person. Quinlan must have done something in the Force, for Garen pushed him away, trying to look mad, even as he was hiding a smile. “I’m a _month_ younger than you!”

“Ibli Garen,” Quinlan teased, and Garen hissed at him.

“Haj dai, cadeo qa!”

“Force says no!”

Quinlan squawked when Garen lunged at him, and then the mirialan was between the two, one hand outstretched towards each of them, holding them apart, and just above the ground with the Force. Garen crossed his arms, glaring at Quinlan, and Quinlan relaxed in the girl’s grip, confident she wouldn’t hurt them. She spoke too fast for anything remotely understandable to be made out of the Dai Bendu, but it clearly meant something to the Jedi, some of whom sighed dramatically, or in the blonde’s case, clapped, like it was the best thing she’d ever listened to in her entire life.

“Alright, alright, kids,” Feemor said, gesturing for Luminara to set the boys down before he waved at the camera-droid. “You got an audience, try to act like you have some maturity, would you?”

The blonde snorted, and stood up, accepting the Bant’s assistance. Without anything to hold them in place, the braids the Bant had been doing were slowly unravelling. “None of us have any maturity, and neither do you.”

“He does spend all his time corralling Younglings,” Garen agreed. Feemor, who had made his way to the middle of the stage, elbowed the shorter human in the shoulder. “That’s not a bad thing!”

“You’re climbing a wall,” Quinlan sing-songed and the mirialan elbowed him sharply. “Luminara! Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt,” she snarked, and crossed her arms, looking towards Drovua and the camera-droid, composing herself in the span of less than half a second before performing a bow. “Apologizes for my agemates. I am Padawan Luminara Unduli.”

The other kids quickly arranged themselves, also bowing and introducing themselves. The boy Feemor had put an arm around was Obi-Wan Kenobi, the blonde girl was Siri Tachi. Quinlan and Garen introduced themselves with their last names, and Obi-Wan sighed heavily when it was all done.

“Can we please focus now?” He asked with the air of someone who had to deal with the group on a regular basis. “Because I will remind you that the Convergence is soon.”

“That’s four months away, Obes,” Quinlan said, poking at the shorter boy’s ear. Obi-Wan swatted his hand away, and Feemor exchanged an amused glance with a baffled Drovu. They hadn’t seen the Jedi just… relax yet. They acted like a group of school-children, bickering together, even as they treated each other like they were siblings. “You’re too tight, you gotta loosen up.”

“Don’t listen to Quinlan,” Siri informed Drovu matter-of-factly, crossing her arms and leaning her weight on one leg, a barely-repressed smirk showing exactly how much she was enjoying herself, “He sees the Code as a suggestion, not a guide.”

“Isn’t it a suggestion?” Bant asked, and Obi-Wan heaved another sigh. Siri and Feemor were standing side by side, their expressions practically identical. “Master Jinn always says that to be a Jedi, you must listen to haj dai sedorem kaital. That’s not the Code.”

“Master Jinn isn’t exactly conventional,” Garen pointed out, and Quinlan made a noise of agreement. “He’s like Quin, only smarter.”

“Hey!”

“Alright, alright, you’re all great,” Feemor cut in, clapping his hands together. “Have you guys picked a script yet?”

“We were thinking of doing the Kai'an Widen Sii,” Siri interjected before anyone else could say anything. “But Lumi and Quin can’t agree on what version to do. The rest of us don’t mind what one they pick.”

“Wait for it,” Obi-Wan muttered quietly from beside the camera-droid. “Wait for it,”

“Okay, you two,” Feemor pointed at Luminara, then at Quinlan. “Work out your differences, somehow. Marriage counselling, if you have to, but figure it out, soon. Take Drovu with you, they’ll be interested.”

“They will?” Garen and Quinlan asked at the same time. Siri snorted, and Obi-Wan sighed for the third time in as many minutes.

“Drovu is doing a documentary about the Jedi Order,” Feemor explained patiently, “You should have heard about this weeks ago.”

Quinlan put his hand in the air. “To be fair, we don’t really read the announcements. We have other priorities.”

“I read them,” Siri and Bant and Obi-Wan said together. Feemor sighed, sounding a lot like Obi-Wan did when he sighed and waved them off, probably poking at them through the Force or something equally odd if they way they hopped off the stage without anyone saying anything else was any indication. Siri grabbed ahold of Drovu’s wrist and tugging them after her, and the rest of her friends. 

There was a cut to another section of the Temple. Garen opened a door and led the group into the room behind it. It was a simple room, with mats spread all across the ground, and weapons on the walls. Light streamed in from the far side of the room, shaders ensuring that the sunlight wasn’t impossibly harsh.

“You wanna meditate or kick the crap out of each other?” Siri asked innocently, skipping further in, and turning around, hands behind her back. Luminara gave her a cool glare, and she managed to raise a single brow in return.

“Meditate,” Luminara said before Quinlan could say anything. She sat down in the middle of the room, legs folded under her, and closed her eyes, relaxing her shoulders. “Quinlan. Now.”

He groaned but sat down across from her. Siri snickered, kicking up into a handstand, and began to walk around the room on her palms. Bant sat down between Quinlan and Luminara, and Garen sat across from her, so the four of them made a diamond shape. Obi-Wan glanced at Drovu and then sat down, crossing his legs, and watched.

Drovu, after a moment’s hesitation, sat down beside him. “What exactly are they doing?”

“They’re meditating,” Obi-Wan answered without any hesitation whatsoever. “Sinking into the Force. Bant and Garen will mediate, and Luminara and Quinlan will work out a solution to their disagreement. Siri’s just messing around.”

“Heard that,” she muttered, flipping over and into a crouch. She pointed at her eyes with two fingers, then at Obi-Wan with the same two. Unbothered, he ignored it.

“Meditation seems to come up a lot with the Jedi,” Drovu noticed. “Could you tell me about that?”

“If you want, I guess so,” Obi-Wan said, pausing for a moment to think. “So, the Force surrounds everything. It’s energy and life, and it’s the Force. Some people can sense it, and we call them Force-sensitives. Not all Force-sensitives are Jedi or Sith though. Dathomir, for example. They have a group called the Nightsisters, who are Force-sensitive, and they use xari.

“Xari is a word for the Dark Side of the Force,” he continued. “It’s not always Sith, but most of the time it is. Sii is the Dark Side that the Sith use and the Nightsisters don’t use that. Jedi are trained to use kytal, which is the Light Side of the Force, and it’s a goal of all Jedi to achieve kyan.”

“What exactly is kai'an?”

“It’s hard to translate,” Obi-Wan admitted, his gaze following Siri, who’d gone back to her handstand. “Dai Bendu in general is hard to translate because it was created by Force-sensitives, so all the words have emotions and feelings attached to them. I think the closest thing would be something along the lines of inner peace, but that doesn’t fully explain what it is. It simply is what it is. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, actually, it does.”

“So, every time you meditate, you’re sinking into the kaital, and trying to achieve kai'an. Our Code is used to help the Younglings understand it.”

“Can you tell me what the Code is?”

Obi-Wan nodded. “There are a few versions. The one that’s most popular is _there is no emotion, there is peace, there is no ignorance, there is knowledge, there is no passion, there is serenity, there is no chaos, there is harmony, there is no death, there is the Force."_

“And what, to you, does that mean?”

“It’s open to interpretation,” Obi-Wan clarified before he answered properly. “I see it as when you release your emotions, you have peace. Where you are no longer ignorant, you have knowledge. When you release your passion, you find serenity, when chaos is no longer, there is harmony, and where there is death, there is the Force. That doesn’t mean we don't have emotions or passions, but it’s like an attachment. You have to let go in order to be free. Everything comes from the Force and everything returns to the Force.”

“Obi-Wan is very spiritual,” Siri whisper-shouted across the room. The camera-droid focused on her, and she lifted into a one-handed handstand to wave at it. “Tell them the other version.”

Obi-Wan sighed again, which he seemed to do a lot. “ _Emotion, yet peace, ignorance, yet knowledge, passion, yet serenity chaos, yet harmony, death, yet the Force._ Siri likes that one.”

“I do,” she agreed, flipping up to her feet and walking over to them, sitting down beside Obi-Wan. She started to comb her hair with her fingers, and braid it. “I think you can only have peace when you have emotions, only know things when you lack information, can only have serenity when you have passion, harmony is only visible when there is chaos, and there is the Force, not death.” She shrugged, then frowned, and took the braid apart. She glanced at Obi-Wan, who nodded slightly, and she shifted, so she was sitting in front of him. He started to braid her hair, and she kept talking.

“There’s a lot of other meditation phrases you can use _. I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me_ is one you see a lot. And phrases in general. _Luminous beings we are, not this crude matter, do or do not, there is no try_ -”

“Stop quoting my great-Grand Master,” Obi-Wan muttered, starting to braid. “He thinks it’s funny.”

_“- train yourself to let go of everything you fear to lose.”_

“Alright, fine, that’s a good one. Hey, do you want me to braid your Padawan braid in, or can I leave it as it is?”

Siri shrugged. “You can leave it. I need to redo it soon, no point.”

Sensing the opportunity, Drovu asked the question, before the conversation could move on to something else. “What is a Padawan braid?”

Siri lifted the thin braid that trailed down from behind her right ear, all the saw to her shoulder. A few beads were woven in, along with a single thread of violet. “It signifies your rank and journey as a Padawan. The beads tell your achievements, and the thread represents your lightsaber. If you can’t have a braid or don’t want one, we use silka beads, like what Bant’s wearing. Same concept.”

“What happens when you become a Jedi Knight? Do you remove it?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan answered, the braid starting to take shape under his hands. “Well, kind of. In the Knighting ceremony, your Master cuts it off. Some keep it, others give it to their Master or someone important to them, like a sibling or relative or their Finder, or Padawan, or -”

“Ignore him, he’s rambling.”

“I am not!”

The scene speeds up, the camera-droid moving around the room in a circle, constantly filming those within it, as it fast-forwards, a voice-over coming back.

_ < Similar to the misconception we covered in the previous episode, the Jedi Code does not ban things such as marriage. It’s discouraged, I’m told, as marriage often leads to attachment, which blinds Force-sensitives to the Light. Some Jedi also discourage it on the grounds that it is an unjust partnership; Force-sensitives are empaths, and will always have deeper connections with one another than they could with non-Force-sensitives. Padawans Unduli and Vos, once they resolved their differences, invited me to come with them to the mural that depicts the play. >_

The scene cut to Luminara and Quinlan, leading Drovu and the camera-droid through the Temple halls, empty halls, contrasting to earlier shots of the halls, which showed other people in them. On the walls is artwork, and Luminara stopped at the base of one, which depicts what seems to be a war. She looked to Drovu, and smiled, before she reached out with one hand, and pressed it against the wall, closing her eyes.

“This,” Quinlan said quietly, respectfully, gesturing with one hand to the wall, “Is the _Kai'an Widen Sii_ mural. It’s the play we’re going to do for Convergence, the spring festival. Wait for it,” he was grinning, practically radiating excitement. “Don’t worry. It won’t attack.”

“What won’t -”

Before Drovu could finish his question, the mural seemed to collapse. The beautiful artwork that was outlined in silver circles and lines fell, overtaken by darkness. It didn’t fall off the wall, more like it was a screen, and had slipped out of sight. Darkness overtook the scene instead, and Luminara took a few steps back, Quinlan pulling a stunned Drovu back with them, allowing them to get the best view of the scene.

On the right side of the scene, as the background lightened to a pale shade of grey, a shadow, jet-black, outlined in bright red, rose up, large and imposing. She lifted a sword the same colour of the outlines in the air, and around her, similar people rising around her in a wave, the thinnest red lines detailing them, showing a variety of different people, and a few different colours; yellow, orange, and purple.

On the left, a figure in pale, dull gold colour, outlined in brilliant blue, lifted a weapon identical to the red one, only blue. Around him, others rose, all of them different, outlined in blue, green, purple, white, and yellow. The two sides clashed, pushing back against each other for a few seconds, until only one outlined in white, and one in dark purple were left, weapons pressed against each other, both leaning in.

“That,” Luminara said softly, “Is Echof Vitri, a former Sith. She’s legendary.”

“And the one in purple?”

“She’s Tru Gan,” Luminara supplied. “Was Echof’s best friend, if the stories are true. Some say they were more than friends, that they were songmates.”

“Songmates?”

The battle between the two continued, in astonishing detail, and Luminara shrugged. “It’s a translation of ankyia. More than friends. Not romantic, necessarily, but more than just two people who know each other. Some stories say that when they broke their bond, Tru went insane.”

“Or she was already insane,” Quinlan muttered under his breath.

_ < Whatever you believe happened all that time ago, in what is now only stories, Tru Gan and Echof are legends in the Jedi Order. Tru is not seen as the villain in the story, but misguided by her upbringing, while Echof managed to break free of it. It's a story about what it means to be a Jedi - Echof cannot hate Tru, for she loves Tru like her songmate - what might be called a soulmate of sorts in Basic. Jedi are encouraged to love, free to love as strongly as Echof and Tru loved each other. >_

The battle ended with Tru running at Echof, who ducked under the red blade, her own white blade cutting through Tru’s stomach. Tru’s death was shown as a tragedy, dying in Echof’s arms, the Jedi crying glowing white tears that were lifted into the air with Tru's body, as it dissolved into what looked like pure light, rising up, and leaving Echof alone. Once the mural had reset, the scene cut to a theatre, a time-stamp alerting any viewers that four months had passed, and focusing on an outdoor theatre, late in the evening. People filled the seats, and the lights darkened, the curtains parting to reveal Bant under the spotlight, the rest of the stage in shadows. She was dressed in a pure-white cloak that dipped over her head and gave her a near-ethereal look. Bant began to speak, voice projecting across the silent crowd of Jedi, full of anticipation.

“Thousands of years ago, the Jedi fought the Sith, two beliefs pitted against one another. The Light, and the Dark. While many battles took place through the Wars, there is one that stands out against the rest; _Kai'an Widen Sii_ is the story of two, Echof Vitri, First Warrior of a White Lightsaber, and Tru Gan, Highest Warrior of the Sith Order. It is not a story of triumph, but one of tragedy. And so, it shall be performed once more, reminding us that in war, there is never a victor, only constant tragedy.”

Applause thundered through the air, and the spotlight faded away, Bant vanishing with it. And so, the production began, the sound overlaid with a voice-over, from Drovu.

 _ < Bant plays Ava Tamari, the woman who wrote the story of Tru and Echof, ensuring it would be preserved for years to come. She is the narrator of _Kyan Widen Sii _. Luminara plays the role of Echof, using a ceremonial white lightsaber to complete her character, while Siri plays Tru. I’m told by Quinlan that it’s an experience that you can only really understand with Force-sensitivity, as the emotion that comes from the depiction of the journey of the two women is always heavy in the air. Even without the Force, I think I understand. > _

The focus zooms in on Siri, who wore a black tunic, leggings, with white wrappings around her forearms, the purple ‘sabre she held in on hand lighting up her face in an eerie way. 

_ < There is something many people learn in school. Civilizations have the following things; shared values, a shared language or languages, and history. The Jedi Order has all three of those things, and I’m confident in saying that we can consider them their own civilization, as they have shared values in their meditation and beliefs, they have a shared language, in Dai Bendu, and they have history. They have a culture. > _

Luminara and Siri began to duel, their ‘sabres flashing through the air, the only two lights on the stage, and in the audience, as it had become nightfall. It almost looked like the blades were floating through the air, and it was utterly beautiful, the two of them replicating the iconic duel in a new, yet unseen way.

_< As outsiders to this culture, we never got the opportunity to understand what they go through, what they believe, and their history. I’m impossibly grateful for the chance to learn about them and share it with all of you. >_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Jaieh:** Jedi Master, someone who has earned the rank of Jedi Master within the Jedi Order
> 
>  **Haj dai:** lit. “Force wills”, pretty much used to say yes, but it depends on the context
> 
>  **Ibli rah'eni kat fehl:** gen. "younger sibling of me"
> 
>  **Cadeo:** Stop
> 
>  **Haj dai sedorem kaital:** lit. “Force wills truth light side”, but in this context means to listen to the truth of the Light Side of the Force
> 
>  **Kai'an Widen Sii:** lit. “inner peace fights dark”, the name of a play that takes part during a Jedi/Sith War
> 
> Echof and Tru are original creations, along with their story. For those who didn't read the Ahsoka novel, you should know that white lightsabers only become white when a bleed crystal - one that is red, like a Sith's blade - has been purified, or healed by the light, making that colour very symbolic in their story.
> 
> Songmates are like soulmates, only using the concept of kyber crystals having a song, and being intended for certain people, so that's why they're called songmates instead. You can choose to see Echof and Tru as platonic songmates, or as romantic ones - the truth is lost to history ;)
> 
> I purposefully set the Sith on the right side of the mural, and the Jedi on the left. This is not only because my first thought was to do it the other way around, and I enjoy messing with my head from time to time, but because, well, in English at least, "right" means you're correct or doing the good thing, so it's kind of symbolic to have the Jedi on the left, and the Sith on the right, just like... I dunno. It's interesting.
> 
> And yes. I played around with lightsaber colours. Purple/Yellow are for both Jedi/Sith, White/Blue/Green are for Jedi only, and Orange/Red is for Sith only, in my mind. Black, is entirely unique and I'm leaving it's lore blank because... it's super cool to have that weapon just chilling all like, _dude, yeah, I'm totally unique and I'm not sharing why._
> 
> I think I could have better with this chapter, but I'm also not entirely sure how I could have done better. I'm still happy with it, but it'll likely be edited a few times as I realize what could change. Nothing major will change, I promise that much. I did want to have Mace in here because, in canon, he did do Jedi Theatre. He'll pop up soon if things go how I think they will.
> 
> And I need some advice, you guys: Ilum. One of the most sacred locations for the Jedi. Should Drovu, and the audience, be able to get a look at what's happens, or should that remain a secret for the Jedi alone? You can either message me on [Tumblr](https://js71.tumblr.com/ask) or comment here. Or, if you really want to write an essay about it, you can email me at js7105132@gmail.com


	3. Festivals and Lineages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving, my Canadian readers! For those who aren’t in Canada or don’t celebrate Thanksgiving or celebrate something different; I hope whatever event happened was enjoyable! Have the Jedi equivalent of Thanksgiving.

**THE FORCE WILLS: FESTIVALS AND LINEAGES**

The third episode opened with a disclaimer.

_ < Do not attempt what you are about to see. All participants are trained and Force-sensitive, and therefore not liable to fall to their deaths. Again. Do not attempt the following. All participants are trained professionals. > _

Then, the black turned to an absurd image. It was of a small, wrinkly green Jedi, with floppy ears and a _very_ concerning smile. He was standing on the edge of a roof, several stories above the ground. Before him, were a group of Younglings, Ahsoka Tano among them, and there was a visible air of excitement in the air, the wind overpowering most other sounds. Someone shouted, counting down.

“Three! Two! One! Throw!”

The Younglings moved together, lunging forwards and thrusting their hands out, towards the Jedi Master. He went flying off the edge of the tower, and the camera-droid flew out, tracking his descent. He was flipping and twisting as he fell towards a crowd of Jedi below, aiming for an empty space. They cut to a shot from below, catching the final moments of the fall, and how the Jedi landed elegantly. Applause filled the air, and he cackled, even as he wandered off, using his gimmer stick to do so.

“Good throw! Younglings, well done!”

_ < The Annual Defenestration Festival takes place during the Convergence. If you live on Coruscant, you know what the Convergence is; it’s an annual spring festival. It’s not really special to most people, just an excuse to get out of school or work for a few days, and maybe relax a bit. For the Jedi however, it’s very important. > _

Someone else plummeted from the tower's peak, and the camera-droid followed their path, zooming in for a better look. It was Aayla, who flipped over and over in tight rotations, arms held close to her body until she landed in an elegant crouch, arms spread to the sides. There was even applause as she jogged out of the way of the next person to fall, her face lit up with adrenaline and excitement.

_ < I wasn’t able to learn how the Defenestration Festival began; if anyone even knows. Some say it was a Council Meeting that went on for too long, some say it was a bored group of Padawans who started it. What I can tell you, is that every year, the Jedi gather around the Council Spire, and take turns launching each other off. > _

Someone else was falling. A pair of girls, in unison. One had light reddish-coral skin, while the other was more yellow-gold. They flipped backwards, tucked their knees in, and extended into diving positions, landing hands-first, and rolling in time with each other, coming up into crouches. Once they were still, and the other Jedi clapping, it became clear the red one was Tiplee, from the library, and the other likely her sister, if the resemblance meant anything.

_ < Younglings will work together to launch Council Members off the Spire, while others team up, such as Tiplee, and her twin sister Tiplar. Jedi Lineages will work together, and agemates do as well. The Festival is a celebration of life, and a core value of the Jedi, as I was told by an Initiate. Said core value is, and I quote, “The ability to do crazy stuff and enjoy it.” > _

Drovu sounded a bit baffled by that, and the scene cut to a human girl, her hair dark, braided back in loops behind her ears, the Padawan braid reaching her shoulder, the edge brushing the dark brown tunic she wore. On the centre of her forehead was a Mark of Illumination, a second matching one between her eyes, on the bridge of her nose. Beside her, was Drovu, who was shielding their eyes from with a hand, squinting into the distance. They winced minutely at whatever they were looking at, and the girl, who was rising up and down on her toes, couldn’t hold back her smile.

“You could participate if you want,” she offered. Drovu whipped around, staring at her, and she smiled in a way that most viewers who’d been watching from the first episode were starting to learn meant not that she was serene, but that she was enjoying herself very much. Also cheeky.

“Thanks, but I’m not a fan of heights.”

“You could push me,” she clarified, but Drovu shook their head. “Suit yourself. Any questions?”

“A lot.”

“You can ask them. I’m not going to keep my mouth shut.”

They looked at her for a moment, then grinned. “ _Any_ question?”

She nodded and turned back to the Spire, eyes straight ahead. She bit at her lower lip, one thumb running over the lip of her lightsaber, circling around and around where the blade would come from, endlessly circling.

“Is this just for fun,” Drovu asked, the final word sounding a bit forced, “or is there a reason behind it?”

The girl hummed thoughtfully. “It’s tradition. And you can win prizes in the categories. There’s three of those; Padawan-Master, Partners, and Synchronized. It’s self-explanatory, I think. The prizes vary from year to year. This year it’s this bundle of meditation aids.”

“Are you participating?”

She shook her head, one hand reaching down to her pants, which were tucked into her boots. She lifted her right foot, and the camera-droid sunk down to be level with it, revealing a white cast from her toes to her knee, doodles all over it, not a single thing in Basic or any other standardized language that the holo-net forums could translate, try as they might. “Bad mission a few days ago. Padawan Tachi was more than happy to take my place. She should be going in a few seconds.”

The camera-droid panned, following where the girl was pointing. It then zoomed in, and then cut to the camera-droid at the top of the spire, allowing the viewers to see the group of Padawan’s who’d been in the previous episode. Siri was standing with her arms spread like a bird of some kind, her back to her friends. Quinlan was seemingly the one who was about to throw her, and the others counted down, shouting as loudly as they possibly could.

“Three! Two! One! Throw!”

Quinlan pushed, and Siri went flying. The footage cut to the droid at the very bottom of the spire, allowing the viewers to watch them fall in full. Siri landed and gave the cheering crowd a bow before she hurried out of the landing zone. 

_ < Depa Billaba is a Chalatctan Jedi Padawan who specializes in languages, > _ Drovu explained, < _In this episode, she’s going to be our guide, through the Convergence, and it’s Festivals. In the last episode, we saw the opening of the five-day-long celebration, with the performance of_ Kyan Widen Sii _, which occurred at sundown yesterday. It’s tradition to have a performance of a historic play to kick off the Convergence. Throughout the night, theatre groups from the Order continue to perform episodes from different periods of history, and into the following day, which is the first of the five Convergence days. > _

The scene cut to Depa walking through the Temple halls, with Drovu beside her. The halls were more crowded than in previous shots, and many of the Jedi were gathered in small groups, speaking amongst themselves, and greeting one another with bows, handshakes, and hugs. Drovu started the interview with a question that many viewers were likely wanting to know the answer to. “So, what is the big thing about Convergence? It’s a celebration, but what exactly are you celebrating?”

“It’s basically a family get-together,” Depa replied, the smile on her face genuine, her eyes bright as she continuously looked around the halls at everyone in them, as if they were all brilliant stars in the night. “Today is the first day; everyone is welcomed home, and we continue our theatre performances until noon, which is when we have the Defenestration Festival. We all eat together in the evening, and it’s all about having fun. Tomorrow, we’ll spend the day with our lineage.”

“Who’s part of your lineage? And what exactly is a lineage?”

“A lineage is like…” Depa paused, searching for her answer. Her thumb rubbed against the opening of her lightsaber, around and around and around. “You have parents, right? And so, my Master is kind of like my parent, and his Master is like his parent, and I’m kind of like my Master’s kid. And if Master Mace trains another Padawan, they’ll be my sibling Padawan.”

“So it’s your family.”

“We’re all family, but lineages are closer families,” Depa confirmed. “My lineage begins with Master T’ra Saa, who trained my Master, Mace Windu, who’s currently training me. It’ll just be the three of us and you, for the Lineage Dinner. And Obi-Wan's lineage, they'll be joining us too.”

“Wouldn’t that be imposing?”

She shrugged. “Grand Master is kind of crazy, and she enjoys the chaos. Master's Mace and Yan have been outvoted. That happens a _lot_ with our lineage since it’s so small right now. And day two is for reacquaintance, so we'll have plenty of time to ourselves. Since I volunteered to show you around for this, you get to join us."

Depa paused for a moment, glancing back at the camera-droid, then looking to Drovu. “You should know I practically bullied Master Mace into being my Master. Master T’ra thought it was the best thing ever. Keep that in mind; it’ll probably explain a lot about my Master and grand-Master.”

“Will it?”

“Oh yeah.”

The scene changed, to show a very large room, full of people from all across the galaxy, all sitting together or moving about in the room with trays of food in their hands or floating beside them and talking with each other, a murmur that radiated family and home that any viewer would be able to see.

_ < The Jedi Order is one of the most diverse groups in the galaxy. They have both nocturnal and diurnal members, and their canteen is open at all hours. Today, during the Defenestration Festival's aftermath, it’s full of Jedi. As you already know, Depa has invited me to sit with her lineage for an evening meal. > _

The footage cut to show a booth. The small, wrinkly green creature from the start of the episode was there, along with several humans other than Depa, and one woman of undeterminable species, almost looking like she was part nautolan part human, lightly coloured skin and dreadlock-like tendrils coming from her forehead, sipping at a cup of steaming liquid. Drovu was sitting at the end of the bench that wrapped around the table, Depa on their right, Obi-Wan on her right. A fairly humble meal was set in front of everyone other than the unknown woman, who only had her tea.

_ < Other than Depa’s lineage, we’re joined by another lineage. We’ve already met some of their members, Obi-Wan and Feemor. Both of them were trained by Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn, who in turn, was trained by Master Yan Dooku, who was trained by Master Yoda. > _

“Stop that,” Depa told Obi-Wan, who frowned at her. She pointed at his head, almost poking him above his ear. “You’re thinking too hard, it’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried.”

She smirked at him, and Feemor hid his own smile behind a mouthful of green plants. The unnamed woman, presumably T’ra Saa, sipped at her tea, watching the two of them with poorly hidden amusement. A dark-skinned, bald human was speaking with another human, whose skin was far lighter, and hair falling past his shoulders.

“I never said you were worried.”

“It was implied - _stop_ poking at me.”

“Why? Does it bother you?”

_“Yes.”_

“Padawan,” the bald human said, and both of them straightened, turning their heads to look at him. “Depa, don’t irritate Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan - stop worrying.”

“I’m not worried!” He protested, leaning forwards, and not helping his case. Drovu glanced at the camera-droid, and smiled at it, before turning back to the conversation.

“Worried, you are,” Yoda decided, nodding seriously, before reaching for his plate of food. He picked up what looked like a bug, and ate it without hesitation. Nobody questioned it.

“We’re empaths, Obi-Wan, you can’t hide,” Depa said, tugging at his ear, gently, before leaning back in her seat, relaxed. There was no tension in her shoulders or the curve of her jaw. They were all relaxed, the seriousness that most associated with Jedi nowhere to be found, replaced by comfortable smiles and shoulders brushing shoulders, Feemor nabbing food from Depa and Obi-Wan who retaliated similarly. Grand Master Yoda watched it all with an all-too-gleeful look on his face, while T’ra Saa remained silent, just sipping at her tea from time to time. “We know all your secrets.”

“All of them?”

Depa wrinkled her nose at him. “You remember we already had the conversation about me not wanting to know anything about _any_ of that.”

“And you’ll remember that I feel the same way,” Obi-Wan returned easily, grabbing a piece of something off of Feemor’s plate, and eating it before his brother could steal it back. Feemor settled for gently wacking Obi-Wan over the back of the head.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re both weird.”

“Says the theatre nerd,” Depa muttered, not entirely under her breath. Mace took note of that, leaning forwards to get a better line of sight with his Padawan.

“Is there something wrong with liking theatre, Padawan?”

She scrambled to save herself, while the white-haired man who sat between Mace and Yoda raised his eyebrows in the first sign of amusement he’d shown so far. Out of everyone in the group, he was the most reserved out of them, and while he wasn’t on-edge, he was a great deal more serious. “Nothing jaieh! It’s very - ah - entertaining!”

Feemor snorted, and she glared at him. He met her gaze. “Want some help climbing up that wall?”

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbled, flicking a finger at him. His cup of water slid across the table, coming dangerously close to the edge, and Feemor moved his own hand, lifting it slightly above the worn-down surface of the table, and back into place.

“Padawans,” Qui-Gon said, the warning in his voice clear. At the same time, both Depa and Feemor spoke together. “I didn’t start it!”

“You both participated in it,” Obi-Wan said cheerfully, content with the knowledge that he was currently safe from getting in trouble. His obvious peace with the situation did not help Depa or Feemor’s opinion of him at the moment.

 _ < As you can see, > _ Drovu explained through the voice over, the remainder of the meal speed-up to show the passage of time. _ < They act as any family would at a reunion. You have the children, who might be considered cousins in most families, the parents, who are also aunts and uncles, and grand-parents. _

_ < On the second day of Convergence, the Jedi spend the day reacquainting with each other. I’m not privy to this, so we don’t have any footage to show you of the second day. I’d imagine it’s a great deal like the lineage dinner I got to attend; like any other close family, you might find in the galaxy. > _

The footage cut to a massive room, built like an oval amphitheatre and full of Jedi of all ages. 

_ < On the third day, the Day of Remembrance, the Order remembers those Jedi who have passed away. They all light a candle for someone they are missing, and are expected to do something to honour their memory. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrases there is no death, there is the Force, or, become one with the Force. It’s a common belief among the Jedi that life is a circle; everyone comes from the Force, and when we die, we become part of it, ready to begin the cycle once more. > _

The camera-droid floated closer to a group near the back of the amphitheatre, at the top of it. Depa, Obi-Wan, and Drovu. Obi-Wan had something in his hands that he was passing to the other two, revealed to be candles. Depa cradled hers in her hands, eyes drawn to it like a bug to a flame.

“I light it for anyone?”

“More than one person, if you want, yeah,” Obi-Wan promised, voice low and barely heard over the murmur that filled the amphitheatre. “And, don’t worry. The fire is carefully controlled. You won’t get burned, so long as you stay still.”

“Hold it level with us,” Depa added, holding her candle up, and slightly forwards. Obi-Wan did the same, and after a moment, Drovu got theirs level with the two Padawans. “Okay. It’s about to start. You don’t have to follow along with the kewan mikodai.”

Silence took over the amphitheatre, people shushing each other until the only noise was people shifting and breathing. The camera-droid zoomed in at the center of the amphitheatre, where three Jedi were visible, but from the distance, in the shadows that were cast over everyone, it was impossible to pick out any details.

As one, all the Jedi began to speak, in unison, their voices alone soft, but together, thunderous.

_“Emotion and Peace,_

_Ignorance and Knowledge,_

_Passion and Serenity,_

_Chaos and Harmony,_

_Death and the Force._

_Haj dai widen rah kat kodaik,_

_Haj dai widen kaital kat kodaik,_

_Haj dai ben sii.”_

The three Jedi in the middle of the amphitheatre moved together, mere shadows, but there was enough light, barely enough light, to see how they gathered together, shoulder to shoulder, back to back, and pushed out with their hands as one. Candles lit all at once, a wave washing up the rows of Jedi, orange-gold-yellow-bright, like a million tiny stars made of fire. Drovu stared at their candle in awe, before closing their eyes, and bowing their head. The light reflected off their horns, and their lips moved silently, the words unheard.

_ < After the candle ceremony, all of the newly-lit candles are scattered around the Jedi Temple, most often in locations that remind the carrier of those who they have lost. Depa took me to her chosen location, a small garden in the upper levels. > _

“Stick with me,” Depa said, cradling her candle in one hand, the other cupped around the flame to make sure it didn’t go out as she walked. Drovu nodded and fell in line beside her. “If you get lost, you probably won’t be able to find your way out. The Temple is the galaxy’s most confusing maze ever. We have to use holo-maps to get around. I think there’s maybe four Jedi who don’t need them, and two of them are over five-hundred years old.”

Drovu nearly tripped. Depa was kind enough to pretend she didn’t notice their stumble, leading them towards a lift, and stepping inside. She let go of her candle, and it hovered in the air by her shoulder. Drovu, having spent a while around Jedi by that point, had a delayed reaction, and had to do a double-take. Depa pretended not to notice, once again, and tapped a flat, oval object on her wrist. It was set into a leather bracelet, no wider than the object itself was.

A holo appeared above her wrist, and she nodded to herself, reaching out for the lift’s control panel, waving her hand over it. Drovu cleared their throat, as the lift began to rise. “Are all the lifts like that?”

Depa nodded, glancing back at her map, before turning the holo off. “The younglings learn really quickly how to use the lifts, and tend to get into places they shouldn’t. We installed these -” she tapped the panel with a nail, “- when I was a Foundling. This way, they at least get practice, even if they sneak around.”

Drovu smiled at the didactic idea, and Depa shrugged, a humble but smug. “We figured it out pretty fast. They haven’t figured out how to keep the older Younglings and Initiates out yet, so once they manage to figure it out, they get their maps. We made it into a challenge; Grand Master Yoda thinks it's funny. My master, less so.”

The scene cut to Depa leading Drovu out of the lift, her candle still hovering at her shoulder. She activated her holo-map, deferring to it to find her way around the floor. It was a beautiful place, full of plants and mirrors that reflected sunlight in seemingly impossible ways so that it always felt like you were outside. The walls were painted blue and green, swirls outlined with crisp silver lines and circles.

“Here,” she said, with quiet excitement, stepping through a doorway that was dripping in yellow-red vines and leaves as big as Drovu’s full hand, the edges soft with gentle ridges. “Ooooh, what’re you guys doing?”

The camera-droid passed by Drovu to get a clear shot of the people within the garden. Two human Younglings, one with red hair and one with dark brown, were running around with Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker. Obi-Wan was sitting on a large rock, watching them play with each other.

“Running!” The boy with red hair shouted, tripping over what appeared to be nothing at all. He yelped, and the other boy tried to stop himself and barely managed to, before he fell on the kid. Ahsoka, however, was not as lucky, running into the second boys back, sending them both onto the ginger’s back. “Not running.”

Anakin laughed, skidding to a stop by the pile of kids, and picked up Ahsoka, trying to set her down on the ground. When he bent over to help the dark-haired boy, Ahsoka scrambled, climbing onto his back, and linking her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around him from behind so she looked like some kind of pet. She giggled, and Anakin laughed with her, helping the red-haired boy.

 _ < Younglings Cal Kestis and Caleb Dume, > _ Drovu informed the audience, _ < They both took part in Master Yoda’s Stew, an original play by Feemor, of which we saw in the beginning of the last episode. Cal played the part of Jedi Knight Colli Frell, while Caleb was Master Yaddle. They’re friends of Ahsoka’s. > _

The footage cut to show Depa lowering her candle to one of the rocks that ringed the garden, settling it carefully into place, to ensure that it didn’t touch any of the plants nearby, even as she confirmed that the particular room she’d chosen was full of fire-proof plants. Drovu set their own beside Depa’s, dripping some wax on the rock before setting it down, to make sure the candle stayed in place.

“I put my candle with the fountains,” Caleb, the dark-haired boy, told Depa. She knelt beside him, and he leaned into her side. “I miss jaieh Tyvokka.”

“Me too,” Depa said quietly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, and tucking her chin over his head. “Haj dai, paden jaieh Tyvokka kaital.”

“Haj dai,” Caleb agreed quietly, closing his eyes. Cal, not wanting to be left out, squirmed his way under Depa’s outer arm, leaning into her. She wrapped her free arm around both of them, and there was a moment of quiet. Then;

“Did you lose your leg?”

Obi-Wan, who had Anakin clinging to his side, Ahsoka still on the Initiate's back, let out a huff of laughter. “She didn’t lose her leg, young one.”

“Don't look like.” Cal supported Caleb’s question, peeking out from where he was hiding to look up at Drovu and the camera-droid. His accent was heavy as if he only just started to learn Basic recently. The best guess most viewers would likely have would be that he spoke Dai Bendu as his first language, not Basic. Or maybe he didn't like Basic. “Like droid. Weird. Maya fahk."

“Cal, that’s rude,” Obi-Wan scolded lightly, and the ginger shrugged.

“Lotta people look weird. I look weird! Super weird!”

Depa heaved a fond sigh, and sat down, leaning against a tree trunk, tapping her knuckles on the white cast that covered her leg from the knee down. “It’s just a broken leg, Caleb. I didn’t lose my leg; In a few weeks, I can take it off, and it’ll be like it never happened.”

“A bacta tank would have been faster,” Anakin said, fully leaning into Obi-Wan, who leaned back into the Initiate, seemingly without realizing it. “Or Bant; didn’t she offer?”

“It’s fine,” Depa said. Caleb inched his way towards the cast, gingerly setting a hand down on it. When Depa didn’t react, he leaned down, holding his ear over it. “I didn’t want the tank, I would have missed the Festival, and I haven’t been able to find Bant.”

“Could go to jaieh Che.”

“Uh, no offence to her, but she’s kind of micro-managing right now, and I don’t want to be stuck in the Halls for a week - I would have missed the Defenestration Festival - Caleb, don’t lick that!”

Cal, Anakin, and Ahsoka began to laugh. Obi-Wan looked strained, while Drovu was entirely baffled. Depa grabbed Caleb by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from the cast, and leaning him against her side. He wasn’t even embarrassed. “Tastes like bacta and clay.”

“I don’t even want to know how you know that.”

“Bacta tastes good,” Anakin interjected. Ahsoka nodded in agreement, and Obi-Wan’s expression became even more strained. “Not as good as bugs though.”

“Anakin, please stop teaching Caleb to eat everything he sees,” Depa pleaded. “It’s not a healthy habit.”

“I haven’t taught him to teach everything!” Anakin said, sounding more offended than anything else. Drovu’s face made it clear they were about to burst out laughing, and barely containing it. “We haven’t gotten to metals yet.”

That broke it. Drovu started to laugh, sinking to the ground, and Cal hid his face in his hands, shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, and very, very carefully, spoke.

“Anakin?”

“Yes, Obi-Wan?”

“Stop teaching Caleb to eat things you think are edible, besides approved foods.”

A beat.

“Are bugs okay?”

The footage cut again, to show a crowded area, full of Jedi who were talking, and through a few wide shots, the audience was shown how the Jedi had set it up in such a way that there were circles of open space, with people sparring in them. Some only had two inside the rings, while others had four, or even six. The voice-over started up once more.

_ < On the fifth day, the Jedi hold a tournament. Depa has invited me to watch her match. Due to her injury, she’s done some shuffling and will be fighting against Initiate Aayla Secura. > _

The camera-droid focused on a familiar face. A blue-skinned twi’lek, one of the first Jedi the viewers had ever seen on the show, her smile barely contained. She looked very similar to the last time they’d seen her, only now, her robes were pure white, like all the other Jedi in the background.

“Are you excited?” Drovu asked from out of frame. Aayla nodded, practically vibrating in place. “What’s the best part about the Tournament?”

“I like the widen soo kai'an,” she decided, folding her hands behind her back, simile far wider than any seen on her before. “Battle meditation. It’s really awesome.”

“So, there are different fighting forms; do you have a favourite?”

“I like Shein,” Aayla admitted. “Form V. It’s - for me, it’s the easiest one to find widen soo kyan in. It’s called The Way of the Krayt Dragon - that’s this massive reptile from Tatooine - or The Perseverance Form. Quinlan thinks I’d be better with Makashi if I mixed it with Ataru, but I don’t really like Makashi’s grip. It feels weird.”

“And Ataru?”

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s fun, I guess. But I don’t want to fight a full battle with that. I use it sometimes, it’s really useful when you want to catch people off-guard. You’re going to watch, right?”

“Of course.”

“I still don’t have my kyber crystal,” Aayla complained, crossing her arms, and scowling, half-heartedly. “Quinlan says I need to be patient, but I think he’s enjoying my pain. _Not_ very Jedi-like.”

 _“I heard that!”_ Someone shouted from off-screen. A moment later, Quinlan Vos appeared behind Aayla, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and holding her close to him. She wiggled, trying to get free. After a few moments, she got a worrying smirk and tilted her chin down, latching her teeth around Quinlan’s forearm. There was a pause, then she let go with a groan. Quinlan smirked. “I do wear bracers, Aayla.”

“Haj dai foh ben,” Aayla grumbled, and Quinlan laughed, ruffling where hair would be on a kiffar. Her lekku swung back and forth with the motion. “Ben fahk, haj dai!”

The shot changed to one from a higher angle, showing Aayla facing off against Depa. The two bowed to each other, before they stepped back from each other, drawing their lightsabers. Depa’s lit up green, while Aayla’s was yellow. They took different stances, and the battle began.

The episode was edited in such a way that viewers only got to see a few snapshots of the duel, including the end, during which Depa disarmed Aalya, sending the still-lit lightsaber towards the crowd. Nobody appeared to even be worried, the hilt freezing in the air, and the blade vanishing, as it rotated quietly. Aayla froze, and Depa grinned. She was standing behind the twi’lek, who’d darted away when she’d been disarmed, and the green weapon of the Padawan was hovering over Aayla’s shoulder, held in the air by the Force. Depa looked relaxed, with one hand outstretched, holding the blade up.

“I yield,” Aayla admitted, and the green weapon smoothly returned to Depa’s hand, turning off before she clipped it to her belt. Aayla’s weapon was returned to her, and the two girls bowed to each other. Once the formalities were complete, Depa hugged Aayla, smiling kindly.

As the voice-over played, Aayla was seen speaking to Quinlan, who looked overjoyed as he spoke to her, words unheard. Halfway through, it cut to a close-up of the two candles that Drovu and Depa had placed in the gardens. Someone was seen lighting a piece of flimsi on fire using them, and by the end of the voice-over, both candles flickered out.

_ < On the fifth day of the Convergence, the Jedi say good-bye to those who are lost. It’s a tradition to write down a goal for the following year, and burn the flimsi the goal is written on using a candle from the Day of Remembrance. Convergence ends at midnight on the fifth day, which is timed very carefully so that the candles lit earlier on burn out exactly then. > _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Kewan mikodai:** lit. “to sing, we the Jedi”, but taken to mean, “We the Jedi, meditate together”
> 
>  **Jaieh:** “Jedi Master”, someone recognized as a Master by the Jedi Order
> 
>  **Haj dai, paden jaieh Tyvokka kaital:** lit. “Force wills to guide Master Tyvokka the Light Side”, in this context taken to mean “Force wills, guide Master Tyvokka to the Light of the Force.”
> 
>  **Widen soo kai'an:** lit. "to fight and feel inner peace", but translates to battle meditation
> 
>  **Maya foh:** Trust me, ie. I know
> 
>  **Haj dai fahk ben:** lit. “Force wills, I endure this”
> 
>  **Haj dai widen rah kat kodaik:** Force wills, to protect our family
> 
>  **Haj dai widen kaital kat kodaik:** Force wills, to protect our light
> 
>  **Haj dai ben sii:** Force wills, to endure the dark
> 
> Okay. The neti? What T’ra Saa is? They’re a species of shape-shifting sentient plants. Yeah. Leaving it at that.
> 
> Master Tyvokka was a Wookiee Jedi Master who trained Plo Koon. In this version of the timeline, he was the one who found Caleb Dume, hence Caleb lighting his candle for Tyvokka.
> 
> Okay. So I did change the name of one of the Convergence days. But! I have a really good reason. I’m Canadian, and every year, on Nov. 11, we have Remembrance Day. It’s a really important event for us Canadians; on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, we have two minutes of silence to remember everyone who’s died fighting in wars. We recite [In Flanders Fields](https://youtu.be/K6BlOkpdkg8) before these two minutes of silence, and schools and things have assemblies for it, and everyone wears pin-on poppies; it’s really important for me. So, while in the story Convergence is from, it’s called Remembrance Day, here, it’s the Day of Remembrance.
> 
> Aayla... still doesn't have her kyber crystal, and therefore had to borrow a lightsaber from someone else for the duel. Depa is noted to be decent/good/proficient at telekinetic lightsaber combat, which was how she got Aayla to yield as you saw. I... actually have no clue where that is sourced from. I can't find it, maybe I'm looking in the wrong places. If that's a fandom thing it's pretty neat, but if it's canon, and you know where from, I'd love to know.
> 
> I subscribe to the headcanon that Yoda, Anakin, Feemor, Qui-Gon, and Ahsoka all eat bugs, much to the horror of Obi-Wan and Yan. And that Anakin and Ahsoka managed to teach this to Caleb. And that Cal climbs everything; that'll probably come around at some point. And that Caleb has ten billion questions. And a lot of headcanons.
> 
> And suggestions for things you'd like to see are always welcome; it's really fun to incorporate ten different headcanons in one chapter. :) So yeah, throw things at me, and we'll see how many I catch. Updates are liable to slow down now, as I speed-wrote these first three chapters, and am now screaming because what I want to do does not at all compute, so those 2000 words I just wrote are getting scraped and thrown as background details because yeah. So. Headcanons, ideas, theories. Throw them, I'm athletic, I can probably grab most of them.


	4. The Construction of a Jedi's Weapon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of ice, and snow, and secrets in the history of the Jedi Order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr Link](https://pisss-offf-ghostt.tumblr.com/post/190681499396/found-this-deep-in-a-thread-and-i-cant-stop)   
>  [Tumblr Link](https://one-real-imonkey.tumblr.com/post/622114200494407680/honestly-i-love-the-idea-of-jedi-lineages-the)   
>  [Tumblr Link](https://jedi-order-apologist.tumblr.com/post/622041383210024960/ive-heard-the-criticism-against-jedi-that-their)

**THE FORCE WILLS: THE CONSTRUCTION OF A JEDI'S WEAPON**

The fourth episode began with a montage of a group getting ready for cold weather. Seven people that the audience could recognize as Tiplee, Tiplar, Anakin, Aayla, Obi-Wan, Luminara and Depa were talking with each other, as the oldest of the seven forced the other four into layers of clothes; socks, leggings, shirts and hats. They then took snow pants out of a cupboard, handing them out, and gave the Initiates thick-looking parka’s trimmed with some kind of fur; maybe fake, maybe not. They added gloves, boots, and pulled on the parka hoods, before six of them, bundled up for icy wastes, gathered at the exit of their ship.

_ < Ilum. It’s been a Jedi stronghold for millennia, and nobody but the Jedi Order knows where it’s located. I was searched before I was allowed on the ship, and I only have been granted the ability to film with hand-held devices. It’s no wonder the Jedi protect this planet so strongly; it’s a major source of kyber crystals, which power Jedi lightsabers. > _

The door opened, and the six Jedi walked out into a blizzard. The footage cut, to show that Drovu had arranged their camera so that it was recording them, where they sat on a bunk, presumably in the ship the Jedi had flown to Ilum in. They held up a cord, which had a clear crystal on it. “My aunt gave me this when I was a child; she said it was a Jedi’s crystal, and that it was a good luck charm. Back then, I believed her. But now, I know the truth. This crystal isn’t kyber, but rather quartz. It’s incapable of powering anything, much less a lightsaber.”

They looped the necklace around their neck all the same, and the footage switched to visual aids. The first one was of a row of differing lightsaber hilts, some short, some long, some wide and some thin, none of them similar in any way other than being recognized as the weapon of the Jedi. One by one, they all lit up, blue, green, yellow, purple and white. Most of them didn’t look very conventional, with cross-guards or flexible blades of light.

_ < A lightsaber is an iconic tool. A sword of pure energy; what’s not to love? The sight of a lightsaber is mesmerizing, and rare to see in person. Most people will go their entire lives, having only heard of them, seeing them on the HoloNet, and never live. What you might not know, is that there are different kinds of lightsabers. To start, let’s look at curved hilts. > _

The visual aid zoomed in on the hilt on the far left, which was the blue lightsaber. The blade vanished, sucked into the base of the weapon, and the hilt rotated from it's veritcal stance to be horizontal, showing how it was indeed curved. It rotated around on its axis, showing the viewer every detail.

_ < Curved hilts are used by those who prefer the second lightsaber form, Makashi. The curve of the hilt allows for more precise movements, and excellent flexibility when the user is engaged in lightsaber-to-lightsaber combat. The grip is also different from a standard lightsaber hilt; curved hilts should be held more in the palm, and less with the fingertips. The advantages of a curved hilt aren’t limited to Form II; they carry over to every other form. _

_ < The second style of hilt we’re going to talk about is a saberstaff, > _ Drovu said, as the visual aid slid to focus on the second lightsaber, this one green, with a much longer hilt. The ‘sabre turned on its axis until it too was vertical, and both sides of the hilt lit up green. < _These are sometimes made from two curved hilts, and sometimes made from two straight hilts. Sometimes, it’s a single hilt. If the hilt is made out of two separate pieces, they can be detached easily, allowing the wielder to use jar'kai, the name for when a Jedi wields two separate blades at one time, or multiple separate blades all at once. > _

To demonstrate the visual aid split the saberstaff hilt in two, aligning them side by side horizontally, to show how that might work.

_ < The doubled surface area of a saberstaff allows for more space to block and deflect attacks, making them excellent defensive weapons, and helping in combat against multiple opponents. _

_ < Following the saberstaff, we have an obscure weapon; the lightwhip is rarely seen. To put it simply, if a lightsaber is rare, and a saberstaff a rare form of a lightsaber, then lightwhips are practically extinct. > _

The latest lightsaber was a simple hilt, not curved, nor was it too long. Coming from one end of it was a coil of yellow as if it were a rope, the light shimmering gold, living up to the name of lightwhip. After a moment, allowing the audience to see how beautiful the creation was, it moved on to a new one, this one purple. The hilt appeared to be a long staff, a streak of purple coming from the top.

_ < The lightsaber pike, more commonly referred to as just the pike, is rarely seen in combat; even less seen in combat than the lightwhip. The hilt is made of a lightsaber-resistant material - what that is, I have not been told. Lightsaber pikes resemble more traditional weapons, such as a spear, glaive, or polearm. I am told that the blade is shorter than most lightsabers, and thicker, the long reach of the weapon allowing the wielder to keep enemies away and keep the advantage they had of a longer reach. _

_ < Finally, we come to a regular lightsaber hilt, > _ Drovu began to wind up, the image changing to show a basic-looking grey hilt, with a white blade pouring from one end. _ < There are a few variations when it comes to a regular lightsaber hilt, most of them personal; what style of grip, the size, what materials are chosen. But, there are two variations I’d like to focus on. _

_ < First, a dual-phase lightsaber. These weapons are identical to your regular lightsaber, only they have a mechanism that allows the user to change the length of the blade. This is a common addition to training lightsabers, to accommodate Younglings and Initiates of different heights and ages. The second variation is called a shoto. > _

The lightsaber that the visual aid was focused on, the length of the white blade having been changing throughout the explanation, was briskly whisked away, replaced by another, this one with a noticeably shorter hilt.

_ < The shoto is a great deal shorter than a regular lightsaber hilt. They’re sometimes used in jar'kai, as the shortened length makes it easier to control, but are also used by some who prefer the heightened control it gives them, or whose size makes it a wiser choice to use. > _

The visual aid zoomed out, letting the viewers have one final look at all the different lightsabers, all lit up in an array of colour before it cut back to Drovu, who was still sitting on the bunk, the quartz necklace hanging around their neck.

“Right now, I’m in a ship with Padawan Unduli,” they said, standing up, and walking towards the camera, picking it up, and heading out of the sleeping quarters, into the hall. The footage was a bit shaky to start but quickly levelled off as Drovu headed down the hallway. “The rest of the Jedi who came with us are searching for kyber crystals, an event that I am not privy to, and nor is any non-Jedi.”

They flipped the camera around to film their face as they walked. “I’m also not allowed to film the construction of lightsaber hilts - I’m told it’s a very private ceremony, meant to be kept in the family, as Initiate Aayla Secura told me. Until they return, I’m alone, with Padawan Unduli. And just between you and me, I don’t think she likes me too much.”

The footage cut to an around a corner shot, peaking into the cargo bay of the ship, where Luminara was sitting with her back to Drovu. Well. Sitting was relative. She had her legs crossed and was floating halfway between the ceiling and floor. Anything not pinned down was slowly rotating around her in a complex pattern of circles. Drovu snuck away before talking again, keeping their voice low. “She’s been like that for the past two hours.”

 _ < Meditation is a key part of Jedi training, > _ Drovu continued in the voice over, the footage cutting to a long, sped-up take of them, setting the camera down in their room, and sitting down on the floor, legs crossed and shoulders relaxed. They closed their eyes. _ < From what I’ve observed, shared with all of you, and been told, the goal of meditation is to understand oneself as best as possible and achieve inner peace. Jedi are empaths, able to get impressions from those around them; fear, love, joy, pain. It’s easy to get overwhelmed by these impressions, and meditation allowed the Jedi to sort out what are their emotions and what aren’t. Meditation isn’t a Jedi-only thing; lots of cultures and people around the galaxy use it for a variety of different reasons. > _

The footage cut once more, with a timestamp alerting any viewers that the footage presently playing had been taken before the group had disembarked onto Ilum. Luminara, who wasn’t getting ready as the others were, arguing with one of the twins on the subject of her head-tendrils instead. She didn’t want to cover them up, from what was understood before Luminara switched to Dai Bendu, and the conversation became lost to anyone but the Jedi.

 _“Iilem anohrah!”_ Luminara scolded, shoving a the tuque towards Tiplee for what had to be the fourth time, _“Anohrah, paiwungak brok keel leo'ah!”_

Tiplee was not having it. She ducked away, backing up, towards one of the walls, trying to get away from the older Jedi, who was having none of it. _“Orhma foh!”_

_“Keel paibenan brok!”_

“Tiplee, put the hat on already,” Aayla grumbled, hiding her lekku under the hood of her parka. “I’m not dragging your frozen body out of the caves.”

“Nor am I,” Tiplar agreed, pulling her tuque further down over her forehead, and fumbling to cover it with her hood, her hands covered in more than one pair of gloves, making precision a difficult task. She managed it in the end. “And Anakin’s from Tatooine, he’s not coming after you either.”

“I’m not what?” Anakin shouted from the far end of the cargo bay, where he was already ready. He was unrecognizable bundled up in the layers he had on but seemed excited enough to start whatever they were doing.

“Nothing!” Aayla shouted back before the twins could say anything. She wrapped a scarf around her neck and made her way towards him. Tiplar hummed, pulling a pair of goggles down over her eyes, and using the rim of them to pin the scarf that was tucked into her parka and covered her nose and mouth, in place.

Luminara crossed her arms, levelling a look at Tiplee. “Put the hat on, Initiate Tiplee, haj dai, or you get to stay here with me, reciting the history of the Republic.”

That did it. Tiplee put the hat on, and Luminara shooed her towards the other Initiates, who were with two others; presumably, Obi-Wan and Depa, if the opening of the episode was any indication. The door opened, and Drovu made a noise of disgruntlement from behind the camera, as whirling snowflakes cut through the cargo hold air, a few of them sticking to the camera’s lens. By the time they cleaned the lens off, the door was once again shut, leaving just Drovu, the camera, and Luminara in the cargo hold.

The footage cut, showing a nearly identical shot, only reversed. The door opened, snow washing in, and the Jedi reentered, the fur that trimmed their clothes glittering with ice, scarves frozen stiff with snow. The moment the door slid shut behind them, Luminara was there, helping them take off layer after layer, and speaking quietly with them. Drovu stayed back, filming it all, catching the first of Luminara’s words, and the ones that followed.

“Tamah qa brok vaversi, ji enoah qa mikodail arhma bika,” she greeted her fellow Jedi, who nodded in return, murmurs of the final few words repeating a few times, as they pulled chilled clothes off, and tried to warm up.

“Ibli ankyia kat fehl,” the camera picked up on Aayla saying, as she reached for her discarded parka with fingers that didn’t want to work entirely correctly. She hissed when she flexed them and she closed her eyes. From one of the parka’s pockets, a small object came to her hand. Drovu zoomed in on it, revealing it to be a crystal of some kind, frosted over, hovering above her fingers. “Ankyia soo. Ji tamah brok foh.”

“Kareh ormha, haj dai,” Obi-Wan promised, stepping out of his boots, focusing on getting himself out before helping the others. Within a few minutes, they were all in their base layers again, and the youngest four were crowded together, showing each other their finds. Drovu moved forwards, and when nobody stopped them, filmed the crystals. They looked like the quartz necklace Drovu wore around their neck, the only difference being that the crystals were smaller, made without a point to either end like Drovu's, and had a sort of frosted-over look to them.

“Do you know what colour they’ll be?” Drovu asked, and Tiplar shook her head, head-tendrils moving slowly with the motion, rippling as if she was underwater. It was almost ethereal, a strange sight, even in a galaxy of many strange sights. 

“You have to bond with it first, and then when you made the hilt correctly, you get to learn what colour. I’m hoping for yellow.”

“Blue,” Anakin said, and Aayla nodded in agreement, her fingers shakily curling up and around her crystal. “Like Obi-Wan.”

“That’s great, Anakin,” Depa said, dropping a blanket on top of his head. He yelped, wiggling his way out of it. Drovu focused the camera on Depa, who was grinning. “Now, kewan mikodaih, dai paipaden koml ormha.”

“Haj dai,” the Initiates agreed, accepting the blankets Depa and Obi-Wan gave them, dragging themselves into a corner of the cargo bay, where there were already a few mats. It didn’t take long for the four of them to manage to pile together on the mats, blankets wrapped all around them. It did take a while for them to stop murmuring with one another, even with some help from Obi-Wan telling them to be quiet. In the end, it was a levitated pillow dropped on Aayla’s head that stopped the talking. Not the giggles, although those did wear off after a few minutes. 

“What were they saying?” Drovu asked Depa, who was sitting near the pile of children, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, Luminara combing her braids out. The ice and snow in the girl's hair was melting, but some of it still remained frozen, glittering in the lights of the cargo bay.

“Repeating the same thing, mostly,” Depa answered, her eyes moving past Drovu and the camera, towards the pile of children, lips quirking into a fond smile. “Gushing about their crystals. Even Tiplar is excited, and she’s the quiet one.”

“Heard that,” someone mumbled from the mess of tangled limbs and blankets. Depa laughed, and Luminara tugged on her hair, perhaps a bit sharper than necessary, reminding her that she needed to stay still for the best results.

“What exactly happened in the caves?”

Depa’s smile slid off her face, replaced by a confident one that was smaller, more serious. “I cannot share that with you.”

“What can you share?”

“They were tested,” Depa replied, her eyes sliding shut. “Fears, shortcomings, things such as that. It is different for everyone. And it is a tradition for those who find their crystals to warm up together after the experience.”

“It was a surprisingly enjoyable experience,” Luminara muttered, folding dark brown hair over itself, again and again. “It did help that Bant got Quinlan to be quiet for once.”

“You went together?”

“No,” Depa made to move like she was about to shake her head, only to catch herself. “I was chosen young, and my Master took me, I didn’t go with my agemates.”

“Is that common?”

“Not usually. Sometimes, you’ll return to find a second crystal. If you lose your lightsaber or want to craft a second one, usually.”

“Would you want a second lightsaber?”

“My jar’kai isn’t quite good enough for that. Maybe someday, but not right now.”

“Padawan Undli? Would you want a second lightsaber?”

She shook her head, looping Depa’s braid around, and pinning it into place. “I’m content with my current blade. I have no reason to search for a second.”

“And what did you face in the caves?”

Luminara’s expression didn't even waver, as she began to braid the other half of Depa’s hair. “I’d prefer not to share.”

“Padawan Billaba?”

“I have the same stance as Luminara,” Depa answered, a bit stiffly, pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “It’s a very private matter. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t pressure the Initiates either; sometimes, the experience can be traumatic, and it is customary to visit the Mind Healers after the journey, in order to fully understand our experiences.”

“Of course,” Drovu assured the two girls. The footage cut, following Tiplar, the mikkian twin with green-yellow skin, who had allowed a tuque to be put over her head-tendrils, through a tight hallway. It was a bit like a workshop, with tiny drawers on either side.

_ < Once the Initiates warm-up, they begin to search for their lightsaber components. I am allowed to film this section. Kept inside the ship that took our group to Ilum is a workshop, filled with nearly anything the Initiates might need in the construction of their lightsabers. Many components are objects found at random or reused from other sources. Rarely, I am told, they are bought brand-new. Padawan Billaba says this is because older components have more life in them. > _

“This one,” Tiplar decided, stopping, and turning, pulling open a drawer that was marked with a series of symbols, which were not any standard language. They were made up of squares, with some lines missing, or with circles in them, or both, and triangles, each with a line missing on one side, and some with circles within. Presumably, Dai Bendu, in it’s written form.

Inside the drawer, were lengths of metal, tubes of them. Tiplar wasn’t quite tall enough to see in properly, and she declined Drovu’s offer of help, rummaging around with one hand. She pulled one of the tubes out. It was a light grey colour, appearing to be made of some kind of silver, and reflective. It was hollow in the middle, like someone had taken a cylinder of metal, removed the inside, and cut out two wavy sections on either side, leaving the bottom and top alone. Tiplar spun it around in her hand for a moment before nodding. “This feels right.”

She put the tube in the shoulder-bag she had slung over her chest, and shut the drawer, moving along. Her fingertips glided along the walls that the rows of drawers made up, her head-tendrils waving, rippling gently. She paused near the end of the aisle and turned around to face Drovu and the camera. “You should back up a bit.”

Drovu obeyed, the camera zooming out as much as possible. Tiplar inhaled slowly, her eyes shut, and exhaled, letting her shoulders fall and muscles relax. Then, she opened her eyes and moved in a blur. One moment, she was on the floor, and the next, she was hanging from the pipes that crossed the ceiling by her knees, upside down, having propelled herself up and off the drawers, hooking her knees over the piping. She reached towards a drawer on the top row, and rummaged through it, pulling out another tube, this one looking smaller than the first one, and without any gaps in the metal. It almost looked like it could fit inside the first tube, with a bit of fiddling. She added it to her bag and made her way down with enough grace to be considered impossible.

There were a few cuts after that, showing her gathering different pieces, with Aayla, Tiplee, and Anakin appearing from time to time, before Drovu was shooed out of the workshop by the Initiates, who looked more than thrilled. They also insisted that they could handle it and that they didn’t need Luminara or Depa or Obi-Wan’s help. The three Padawans looked more entertained than anything else, gathering in the cockpit, where a white and blue astromech was piloting the ship.

“Should take them…” Depa tapped her wrist, activating her holo. “Give them two days. It’s their first time, after all.”

“They’ve been taught to use the tools already?”

There was a pause, and all three Padawans exchanged glances. Luminara leaned back in her seat, leaving it to the other two. Obi-Wan pointedly turned back to the ship's controls, leaving Depa with the duty of answering the question. She sighed, softly, and drew her lightsaber hilt, turning it over in her hands, letting Drovu get a clear shot of the weapon.

“There are no seams,” she began, “In my lightsaber. Others are different. But, there are also no screws, hinges, dials, switches or buttons on my hilt. I meditated upon the pieces the Force guided me to, and joined them together using the Force, not with tools.”

“Is that true for all lightsabers?”

“Each lightsaber is unique, just like everyone is unique,” Depa said, holding her weapon in both hands, and activating it, the green glow reflecting off her Marks of Illumination and her eyes. “They perform the same functions, yes. They are similar. But no two lightsabers are identical, and no two people are identical in the eyes of the Force.”

She deactivated the blade, the hum of the weapon leaving the room in silence, and leaned back in her chair. She pulled her feet up, tucking them close, and propping her chin up, on one hand, her elbow on her armrest, eyes staring out the window.

A soft chime cut through the quiet. Luminara rose from her seat, nodding to the other two Jedi, and Drovu. “It is time for midday prayer. Excuse me.”

“We’re good here,” Depa assured her, glancing up from the streaks of hyperspace. “Go ahead.”

“Midday prayer?” Drovu asked once Lumianara had left the cockpit, the doors sliding shut behind her. “Aren’t you two going to join in?”

“It’s a mirialan thing,” Depa said, turning back to the stars. “It has to do with why Luminara wears a s’tola. We could go watch, or… you know, she could do them here, it doesn’t matter too much… I’m pretty sure. But Luminara likes her privacy, so we give her the space she needs.”

“Don’t you already have a religion? As Jedi?”

Depa shook her head. “Luminara practices more than one religion. If you can even call being a Jedi a religion. And yeah, she does. When she dies, she’ll have a funeral like she would on Mirial, because that’s what she wants. It’s her choice, and it’s not our place to judge her for that choice.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most religions wouldn’t allow that.”

Depa straightened at that, staring at Drovu, and the camera. “Why not? Can’t she do what she wants?”

“Not everyone thinks so.”

Depa’s eyes narrowed. Then, she nodded, and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair as best she could. The camera turned to watch the stars pass, a voice-over beginning, as a slow transition started.

_ < Exactly as how Depa predicted it, within two days after leaving Ilum, the Jedi Initiates have completed the construction of their lightsabers, and get the opportunity to use them, so long as they’re supervised. > _

The transition ended with a shot from one corner of the cargo back, off to the left and behind the four Initiates. At the front of the group was Depa, who had her back turned to the Initiates, all of them standing in similar positions. As one, they began to move, one foot shifting back, their stances lowering, and they drew their lightsabers. Three blue, and two green. In unison, with Depa seemingly counting, if the beat of each word was any indication, they moved, stepping through a set of lightsaber forms.

_ < Lightsabers are another reason Jedi children are hunted down. A working lightsaber sells for a high price on the black market, and there are some who see owning one, despite not being a Jedi, as a sign of power. Any Jedi who has completed the construction of their lightsaber is put in danger, for they are seen as weaker, easier targets to steal lightsabers from. _

_ < What those thieves don’t know, is that each lightsaber is unique as it’s creator. Lightsabers are powered by kyber crystals, which give the blades their colour. And these crystals, given enough time, form a bond with their Jedi. While this bond rarely makes an appearance, it’s an accepted fact among the Jedi that a lightsaber will always work best for the user, if they are bonded with their crystal, if the crystal's finder trusts whoever else might use it. Some even believe that the kyber crystals will rebel against anyone who steals them; there are many examples throughout the galactic history of master swordsmen trying a stolen lightsaber, and dismembering themselves with it. _

_< In fact, dismemberment is so common in lightsaber combat, that the Jedi have a name for the different kinds of it. To perform a_ cho mai _is to amputate your enemy's weapon-holding hand._ Cho mai _is a more painful alternative to the preferred_ sun djem _; destroying or disarming an enemy's weapon without causing them harm. These are only some of the terms the Jedi have._ Mou kei _is to dismember your opponent,_ sai tok _is to cut them in half, and_ sai cha _is to decapitate them. Jedi Younglings and Initiates are taught how to avoid performing such actions, and while Jedi are not bound from taking life - they have fought in many wars throughout the millennia - it is discouraged greatly. >_

The episode ended with a circling shot of all seven Jedi, blue and green lightsabers illuminated, holding their weapons to the ceiling, tips together.

_ < A Jedi’s weapon, is not a weapon. It is an extension of their very essence. > _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Iilem anohrah:** lit. “ice home”, taken to mean the Ilum temple.
> 
>  **Anohrah, paiwungak brok, keel leo'ji:** The Temple will be painfully cold, you know!
> 
>  **Orhma fahk:** I’m warm!
> 
>  **Keel paibenan brok:** You’d endure the cold senselessly! 
> 
> **Tamah qa brok vaversi, ji enoah qa mikodail arhma bika:** "Outside it is cold, but were are all warm together here", a greeting, welcoming others back into a warm, safe place.
> 
>  **Ibli ankyia kat fehl:** lit. “little heartsong mine”, but taken to mean a kyber crystal, as in canon, it’s established that kyber crystals “sing” to their chosen Jedi.
> 
>  **Ankyia soo:** lit. “heartsong mentally felt”, saying that they heard the crystals heartsong in their head.
> 
>  **Ji tamah brok fahk:** But I am cold.
> 
>  **Karah ormha, haj dai:** Force wills, you’ll be warm soon. (pl.)
> 
>  **Kewan mikodaih, dai paipaden koml ormha:** To meditate together as Jedi, Force guides us to the love of family and warmth.
> 
> So, you can see that Drovu got a bit more formal in how they addressed the Jedi in this episode. That was on-purpose. When I write these, I do think a bit about behind-the-scenes and how that’d affect how the characters act in each episode, so off-screen when Drovu was trying to get access to the Ilum caves and whatnot, they sort of toed the line a bit too much and are now trying to make up for that, hence the more formal speech when addressing Depa and Luminara and such.
> 
> This chapter was heavily edited; that is, a lot was left out of the lore, and that cut down on the length a bit. For an example of things left out, curved hilt lightsabers are more difficult to use in blaster-bolt redirection, and that was never mentioned. I’m sure you can guess why; the Jedi don’t want to make it easier for people to kill them.
> 
> Also. Should be mentioned, as it wouldn’t make sense in-universe to have the Jedi just… sharing this information. I believe that other than dials and switches, lightsabers can be activated by, for lack of a better term, waking up the kyber crystals inside, or putting them to sleep.
> 
> Building off of that; here, the Jedi are more than just empaths. They’re psychics, with varying levels of power, but they’re all psychics. Again, the reasoning behind this is simple; the Jedi are already pretty terrifying. They’re dramatic bastards with a penchant for capes, lightsabers, and flips. Being told they’re psychic isn’t really going to help people’s opinions of them. 
> 
> The reason that Tiplee doesn’t want to cover her head-tendrils is rooted in canon; they’re like extra-sensory organ-things. And the fact that Tiplar did cover hers but Tiplee didn’t want to has to do with their lightsaber colours.
> 
> Here's the big question: Should I rip out your hearts now or later?
> 
> And... things that you want answered and suggestions/ideas should go to my [Tumblr](https://jc71.tumblr.com/), not the comments. Comments are less likely to get answered because my brain seems to think that makes it look ugly... I'm crazy, fully aware. Also, I do want ideas, or like, links to cool Jedi stuff, because inspiration is fun to lose yourself in. Also, Dai Bendu is hard... I didn't know anything about English grammar structure terms until like, today. French Immersion student.


	5. A Balancing Act

**THE FORCE WILLS: A BALANCING ACT**

The episode began at dusk, with Jocasta Nu. Her hair was pinned up in a bun, and her robes were simple, nondescript. Over her shoulder, rested a bag, just as boring as her robes. She was walking, the camera following her through a crowded street, bustling and full of life, shops crowding the sides of the road, people from all across the galaxy making up the tightly-packed street. On her shoulder, a small, bipedal droid was balanced, his head constantly turning to take everything in.

 _ < Jedi Master Jocasta Nu is the head of the Jedi Archives, > _ Drovu began, the camera jostled by the crowd, making it difficult for them to keep up with Jocasta. _ < While that usually translates to what you might call a head librarian, Master Nu is no stranger to stepping foot outside of the Temple, searching for lost artifacts. Currently, she’s searching for a contact a fellow Jedi got in touch with for her. They claim to have a map that will lead to a long-forgotten Jedi Stronghold. > _

Jocasta took a sharp turn, moving against the crowd, towards an alleyway. Drovu hurried after her, the footage shaking as they ran into different people; more than a few of them muttered curses, one or two apologizing without seemingly realizing what had happened. They caught up to Jocasta at the mouth of the alleyway. It was a tight fit, and full of darkness lit only from the dusk light behind Drovu and Jocasta. Without hesitation, she lifted her hand and activated a small flashlight, clipped on her bracer, the golden-yellow light cutting through the darkness.

“This way.”

She plunged into the darkness without hesitation, and Drovu followed, with only some hesitation, although it did look like they were trying to stay as calm as they could.

The alleyway was dirty, puddles of clouded water gathered in the potholes, dirt and sand piled up along the walls, the bricks on either side dripping with water. Jocasta was entirely unbothered, stepping through the puddles without a care in the world. They passed a few doors, none of them open, before coming to a stop at one that had once been painted red. The paint was chipped away, revealing the wood beneath. Jocasta lifted her hand, and knocked twice, paused, knocked once, twice, and then two more times. The door opened, just a crack. “What’d’ya want?”

Whatever Jocasta told the woman, was unheard, either edited out or not picked up on by the mike. The door shut, then opened all the way, letting Drovu and Jocasta in.

 _ < I’ve blurred the contacts face and altered her voice, > _ Drovu explained, as the room came into sharp focus. It was cluttered, with a sad-looking chesterfield and a low-down caf table that was level only because someone had used bricks to replace one of the legs.

“Ya got the credits?” the woman asked, and Jocasta raised her eyebrows at her, who crossed her arms, leaning her weight on one hip. “Nah credits, nah info, lady.”

Jocasta slid a hand into her pocket, withdrawing a small stack of silver-bronze credits. She held them out to the woman, who grabbed them and went through the brief process of verifying that they were real credits. Satisfied, she looked up at Jocasta. “This ain’t enough.”

“The map, first.”

The woman scoffed and turned around. She rummaged through one of the boxes in the room, and Drovu turned around, giving the viewers a better view of the space. Curtains over the windows, a kitchen that was part of the living room, and one other doorway, leading to a bedroom, most likely.

The woman stood up and held up a datachip. She handed it over to Jocasta, who offered it to the droid on her shoulder. He accepted it, and a minute later, a holo-projection of a map flooded the room with light, overpowering the half-hearted glow from the lamp on the caf table, and the stronger beam from Jocasta’s flashlight. It was only active for a moment and edited to be blurry, but Jocasta was satisfied, the holo-projection vanishing within seconds.

The episode cut to Jocasta taking up a pilot’s seat in a small craft, the droid using his scomp link to likely input their destination. He said something in Binary, and Jocasta hummed. “That’s alright, Beedee. Plot the course you can. Nebyap isn’t a place you can get to easily.”

“Nebyap?”

“It’s a branch of the original Jedi Order; it was overtaken by the Sith several thousand years ago. We have maps, but they’re not calibrated correctly, and out of date,” Jocasta answered easily, the ship coming to life around her. Drovu sat across from her in the co-pilot’s seat, revealing the footage to be filled from a camera-droid once more, the droid bobbing slightly, ever so much as it filmed. “You’ll see why soon enough.”

_ < Nebyap is located somewhere that I can’t tell you - mostly because I have no clue where it is. Nor does Master Jocasta’s droid, BD-1. The closest BD-1 manages to get us is fairly off, and following that, I got to watch a demonstration of a Force-skill I consider to be very impressive. > _

The footage cut to show that the ship Jocasta, BD-1 and Drovu were on had made it into deep space. They’d just dropped out of hyperspace if the jolt that shook the craft was any indication, Drovu's grip on the armrests of their chair tightening. Jocasta began to alter the ship’s controls, issuing orders to BD-1. “Turn all piloting to manual and disengage from the ship’s workings.”

BD-1 chirped an affirmative, his scomp link retracting from the ship’s controls. Jocasta glanced at Drovu, considering them for a few moments, before giving them the slightest of all nods. “You may record this. But it _will_ be reviewed by the Order, to ensure that nobody can find this place.”

“Of course.”

“Nebyap is not a secret,” Jocasta tacked on, turning her head to stare out the window, the stars reflecting in her eyes and the claps of her robes. “But it is very, very sii. Even you, Force-null as you are, will be able to feel it. And that is very dangerous.”

“Sii?”

“Dark.”

Jocasta relaxed back into her chair, eyes sliding shut, her hands on the ship’s controls. She began to pilot, and the footage remained clear for the first while, unedited until they approached what seemed to be a series of meteors, flying through space, barely clumped together.

“Is this safe?”

“No,” Jocasta said, voice softer than usual, barely heard, her eyes still shut. “No one should ever try this unless they can perform kan je. Nebyap is not welcoming.”

Without hesitation, she increased speed and began to weave through the asteroids, no pattern to her movements. It was far faster than one would expect, and the way Drovu was clutching at the armrests of their chair indicated that they did not feel safe in the least. Jocasta, if she noticed - she likely did - didn’t mention anything about it. The trip, all-together, only took a few minutes, no more than five. BD-1 seemed to enjoy it, at the very least, chirping softly and making other noises of awe as Jocasta flew.

They landed on a larger asteroid, one that could probably be defined as a planetoid. Jocasta rose from her seat, and flicked a few switches, setting the ship to sleep mode, and moving out of the cockpit. Drovu and the camera-droid followed. BD-1 did not, cheerfully plugging back into the ship and pulling up a small holo on the dashboard. The camera-droid caught the opening lines of _Blue Guardian_ , a popular action/romance holo-film before the doors slid shut.

“Does your droid often watch holo’s?” Drovu asked, following Jocasta towards the ship’s exit. She smiled, settling her cloak around her shoulders, adjusting it slightly to her liking.

“Oh yes. He finds them quite entertaining,” she said, wrapping a scarf around her lower face, securing it in place with a knot at the back, and goggles. She offered Drovu a second scarf and goggles. “Nebyap has a breathable atmosphere for all. However, it is very dry and possibly dusty; these should make it more comfortable.”

“For all?” Drovu asked, securing the scarf over their mouth. “How does that work?”

“The Force.”

She did not elaborate, and the next cut showed her leading Drovu down the landing ramp, and onto the planetoid. The ground was rocky, as was to be expected, but it had designs carved into it, triangles and circles and straight lines, forming a pathway across the surface. The gravity seemed relatively standard.

“Nebyap,” Jocasta murmured, kneeling on the pathway, her fingers gliding over the carvings. She stood up and began to lead Drovu down the pathway, to seemingly nowhere. The camera-droid panned, showing how yes, they were on a planetoid, surrounded by swirling astroids. “In Old Sith, it means Endless Motion. The original name was in Dai Bendu and meant the same. Now, it is only Nebyap.”

She flicked her hood up, over her hair, and let her hands hide in the sleeves of the cloak, continuing down the pathway, followed by the zabrak, who was followed by the camera-droid. The scene cut a moment later to focus on a new shot, this one revealing a circular space, cut into the ground, pathways such as the one that Jocasta had Drovu along branching off of it in several different directions. Jocasta lifted a hand, stopping Drovu from setting foot inside the circle.

“Stay here.”

She paced forwards until she was at the center of the circle. Once there, she knelt, retrieving something from within her cloak, hiding the camera-droids view of it with her body. Whatever she did, it did something, the carvings lighting up a glorious, awe-inspiring blue, racing through all the cracks and burning impossibly bright. Jocasta was a shadow, barely visible, Drovu much the same, against the brilliant light.

The light faded to a dimmer, but still brilliant glow. Jocasta stepped back, and something rumbled around her and Drovu like the planetoid was shaking, even as they both kept their balance. Jocasta, unconcerned, even as Drovu looked around as if wondering when it would be okay to run, spoke, projecting her voice across the impossible landscape.

“Tumi mikah jaieh Jocasta Nu, Anohrah kytal raheniel. Mimayaah foh keelak sedorem.”

Stone rumbled. Drovu stumbled, falling to the ground, and the stone circle moved, rotating around and around, separating into thin slices, sliding down into the earth, like a spiral staircase. Jocasta turned, holding her hand out to Drovu. “Are you coming, young one?”

They pushed themselves up to their feet, regaining their balance. “I’m starting to think you Jedi are crazy.”

Jocasta laughed at that. “Only a little bit.”

Jocasta led them down into the rock. The patterns on the walls and floor and ceiling were pulsing blue, like a heartbeat, steady and cool, welcoming. It echoed with every step as if it were trying to warn them of something. Jocasta’s gloved fingers brushed the walls, as they went deeper and deeper.

“Thousands of years ago, the Sith and Jedi were peaceful,” she murmured, studying the artwork. “Three Temples were built, on a planet long dead. Ashla, Bendu, and Bogan. The Daughter, the Father, and the Son. The Winged Goddess, the Old Monarch, and the Fanged God.”

“What changed?”

“Extremists. As many things do. History repeats.”

They came to the end of the stairs. Jocasta drew her lightsaber, and with a snap, it came to life, the steady hum barely audible. She waved it slowly, back and forth, casting its light across the stone, where the trails of light finally faded. Drovu took more than one step away from the weapon. Jocasta stepped forwards, holding the blue blade high, letting its glow illuminate the cavern.

“It’s cold,” Drovu muttered.

“Yes,” Jocasta answered, moving further into the cave, no hesitation holding her back. “Resist it. If it takes you, I will not hesitate to subdue you.”

“Got it.”

There was an altar, at the far end of the cavern. As Jocasta moved further in, followed by Drovu, the carvings under her feet lit up, the faintest of all blues, sinking into purple, then a dark, bloody red.

“Did you know,” Jocasta said mildly, “That the Mando’a word for red translates to almost blood?”

Drovu gagged. “No.”

“Fascinating culture,” Jocasta mused the blue shifting to purple under her feet, then to the deep red colour. “Asajj is very fond of them. She thinks it’s very entertaining, how back then, nobody tried to fight the Jedi, yet the Mando'ad decided to go to war against us.”

“Entertaining,” Drovu repeated weakly, looking like they were about to fall over, occasional shivers wracking their body, every few seconds or so. “War?”

“The conversation was held in Dai Bendu. I may not be translating it for you correctly.”

“Right,” Drovu said, shivering again, and trying to straighten, squaring their shoulders. “What are you looking for, Master Nu?”

“Call me Jocasta,” she reminded them, pointing down the cave, towards the altar. “That is what I am looking for. Nebyap is constantly moving. It’s hidden by the Force, woven tightly around it, but before it was abandoned, scholars calculated it’s pathways for generations to come, and loaded the data into chips. Once you are close enough, if you know what you are looking for, you can use kan je to find it, and enter the asteroid field. It’s very clever, actually.”

“Hm.”

Jocasta stepped up the few stairs, onto the altar’s platform. She brought her lightsaber around, and with both hands, plunged it into the center of the stone, all the way to the hilt. Blue crashed in, identical to when she’d activated the circle, and blinded everything, leaving her as just a silhouette. The red and purple were washed away, replaced by the brilliant shine of white-blue, the colour slowly fading back into a steady pulse of calm, soothing azure.

“Haj dai,” Jocasta murmured, bowing her head over the altar, hands clasped together. She started to speak, the Dai Bendu rhythmic and alive, even as it was too soft to be understood in the least. It seemed to go on for a long time.

Then, she paused. Drovu had stepped up to the opposing side of the altar, staring at it with an almost hungry gaze. 

“Drovu,” Jocasta warned, voice and tone and inflection carefully controlled, her accent unfamiliar, as if she was reverting back to her origins. She didn’t move. “Step away from the altar. Now.”

They didn’t. They lunged, grabbing the lightsaber, and tearing it free of the stone, swinging it at Jocasta. She ducked seamlessly, and when Drovu made to swing again, she blocked it, slamming her palm into the wrist of the hand that held the weapon. The lightsaber went flying, only to stop in midair, and fly back to Jocasta’s hand. With her empty hand, she reached towards Drovu, fingers fluttering across their eyes.

With a groan, Drovu crumpled. Or would have, had Jocasta not caught them with the Force. She sighed, and turned away from the altar, towards the exit. Lightsaber in one hand, and supporting Drovu with the other, she left the cavern, followed by the camera-droid.

 _ < I don’t remember much past the stairs, > _ Drovu admitted over the voice-over, sounding ever so slightly sheepish., _ < And rest assured. What you just saw was real. If I wasn’t convinced with what the Dark Side could do before, I certainly am now. _

_ < Master Nu assured me that my… episode didn’t interfere with her mission. She returned to the cavern after leaving me on the ship and found what she came for. Once we were out of range of Nebyep’s influence, I woke up, with a headache to match. However, this does give me an opportunity to share a deeper insight into the Jedi Order. Their meditation. _

_ < We’ve gone over meditation before, you’ll remember. But now, we’re going to get a look into the philosophy of a meditation session, joined by some people you’ve already met, and some you haven’t. > _

The scene gently transitioned into a quieter, warmer one. The room was dark, a murmur of soft voices kind on the ears and heart after the latest development. There were a few kids in the room; Ahsoka, Caleb, Cal, and a mirialan girl wearing a hooded s’tola, loose around her stiff, dark hair, where it poked out from under the fabric. The three of them were practically laying on each other, more or less. Caleb, as the biggest, was on his back. Cal was hugging one of his arms, head on Caleb’s chest, facing the dark-haired boy. Ahsoka had her head on Caleb’s stomach, staring at the ceiling, and on her ankles, the mirialan was stretched out, only her feet resting on Ahsoka’s.

_ < You’ve already met Initiates Ahsoka Tano, Cal Kestis, and Caleb Dume. You haven’t met Initiate Barriss Offee, their agemate; nor have you met Jedi Master Jaro Tapal, who is in charge of their meditation. It should be noted that Jedi do not have a teacher for each level; Master Tapal has taught them since they were brought to the Temple and will continue to teach them until they are taken on as Padawans. > _

“Ibli raheniel kat fehl,” a tall lasat, who’d been in the background earlier, just barely, lighting candles and arranging them, finally spoke aloud. He turned, and the four giggling Initiates quickly sat up, in a haphazard line, twisting to look at him. He smiled, softly, beautifully. “Mikewanal?”

“Haj dai!” All four said, although not entirely in unison. Cal said it first, followed by Bariss and Ahsoka, who were in time with each other, Caleb falling slightly behind the two girls. They all started to laugh again, even as they arranged themselves into a staggered line, kneeling and crossing their legs and going into the lotus position. 

“Drovu,” Jaro murmured, settling into a kneeling position. “You may sit where you feel comfortable.”

Drovu nodded, and took a place near the wall, turning their back to it, so they were facing the line of Initiates, who were facing Jaro, and so Drovu was facing the camera-droid. Once everyone was settled, the session began with a question.

“You have objects of focus, ibli raheniel?”

“Yep!” Ahsoka chirped proudly, holding up a loose cord that hung around her throat, the pendant that hung from it made of dark red wood. The camera-droid focused on it, revealing the symbol of the Jedi Order to be carved into the oblong shape. Barriss set a little orb on the ground before her, made out of thin strips of tightly wound metal-cord, so tightly wrapped that there was no way to tell if it was hollow or not. Cal dug in his pocket, and pulled out a small bag, overturning it to dump out marbles. And Caleb brought out a tooka kit.

There was a pause. In the background of the scene, Drovu had their eyes shut, and therefore had not noticed the tooka kit. Not until it let out a helpless meow. They opened their eyes, leaning forwards, to get a better look at the kit, and froze for a moment. After that, when Jaro spoke, they simply shrugged, going back to their cross-legged position. 

“Initiate Caleb?”

“Jaieh?”

“Why do you have a tooka kit?”

“You said to bring an object of focus. So I brought Jedi.”

“Jedi.”

“Yes.”

“You named… the tooka kit… Jedi.”

“Yes.”

“Initiate Offee?”

“Jaieh?”

“Remind me to speak to your Clan Leader.”

“Haj dai.”

“Jedi can stay, right?”

There was a very long, suffering sigh. “Jedi can stay, only if she -”

“Em.”

“Pardon?”

“Jedi goes by em and ey pronouns.”

“It’s a tooka.”

“So?”

“How do you know what pronouns ey want?”

Caleb shrugged, picking up the tooka, and pulling em closer, as ey had started to wander off, wobbling on eir paws and nearly falling or eir face. Caleb set em back down in his lap, and ey promptly fell over, and began to purr. “Feels right.”

“Alright. Jedi… ey can stay, only, only if you don’t get distracted by em. And we are going to have a talk about what constitutes as an object of focus, Caleb. And maybe a different name.”

“Iilem,” Cal suggested, grinning wickedly. Ahsoka snickered. “Kanan! Keel kan!”

“We are not naming the tooka kit iilem or kanan,” Jaro said, remarkably patiently. “Nor do I want to know how Caleb managed to hide eir presence for this long. We will discuss eir name after meditation. Close your eyes.”

The group quieted. Jaro began to guide them aloud, likely for Drovu’s sake.

“Inhale. Feel your shoulders rise, and your chin lift. Hold it there for a moment, and let it out, slowly. Feel your shoulders relax, your head fall. Inhale. Feel the air in your chest, if it’s warm or cold. Exhale.

“What are you thinking of? Let your thoughts flow, let them wander, and bring them back to your breathing.”

Jedi meowed. Without pausing, Caleb ran a hand over the tooka kit, soothing em. Nobody appeared to notice, and Caleb didn’t even hesitate to do it. On Caleb’s left, Cal winced minutely, twitching.

“What tension is in your body? Find it. Understand it, and release it. Relax your shoulder, and sit straight. Find comfort, and listen to what your body is trying to tell you.

“Reach out. Listen to what's around you. Their breathing, and the smell of the room. What you can feel, and what you can sense. Every pulse of the Force as it flows through you, the room, the temple. Yield to it, and accept it.”

Barriss inhaled, holding it for longer than before. Her orb was hovering above the ground, reflecting the candles, and spinning slowly, beautiful. Cal’s marbles had rolled into a perfect trio of circles, each inside each other. The peace was beautiful, even if it only lasted so long.

“Now. What is balance?”

“Not this!” Ahsoka nearly shouted, lunging for Barriss, and shoving her over. She yelped, hands catching her before she hit the floor. There was barely a pause, and then Barriss thrust an open hand out towards Ahsoka, sending her crashing into the boys. Caleb let out a shout of horror, picking a startled Jedi up, and starting to rant at Ahsoka and Barriss in Dai Bendu. Cal rubbed at his shoulder, trying to figure out what had happened, sitting up slower than the others, almost pained.

“Initiates,” Jaro warned, his eyes still shut, and they scrambled to arrange themselves back in their staggered row. “That was… certainly an interesting demonstration, Ahsoka, but we do not touch others if they don’t want to be touched. Nor do we push others.”

Barriss, who looked like she might burst into tears, hung her head, hands hovering around the hem of her s’tola, fingers gripping the edges. It hadn’t fallen off, not come close, but she was shaken all the same.

“Heleo,” Ahsoka whispered, ducking her head, fingers clenched in her lap. Barriss let out a shaky sigh and reverted into her meditation position. The other Initiates did the same, Cal sitting up a bit slower than the rest, a hand pressing against his head.

“Now,” Jaro said, once they’d settled in again, and a minute had passed. At the back of the room, Drovu looked both entertained and fairly lost. “Without touching one another, what is balance?”

“An equal amount of weight on either side of a scale,” Barriss responded instantly, sitting straighter, shoulders back, her position relaxed.

“That is true.”

“Grey?” Caleb suggested, holding up Jedi as if that was eir name. Jaro, even with his eyes shut, let out a long-suffering sigh. Cal put forth a string of Dai Bendu that ran into itself and made less sense than most Dai Bendu did, with the added benefit of him gesturing with his hands, and attempting to reach for the tooka kit. Caleb leaned away.

“You are all correct. Balance is indeed equilibrium, both inside up, how Ahsoka… demonstrated, and it is equal parts, as Barriss mentioned. Grey is an idea of balance, and yes, Cal. That is a good example of balance, even if it is word-for-word from the library mural.”

“But we’re Jedi,” Ahsoka said. “We’re supposed to be light, not… grey. Grey is icky.”

“No, it’s not,” Caleb grumbled, and Ahsoka turned to snap at him, but froze, closing her mouth and turning back to the front, taking in a deep breath. 

“Balance is complicated. But here is a question. What is heavier? A kilo of feathers, or a kilo of stone.”

“They’re equal,” Barriss pointed out as if it were obvious. Cal opened one eye, and leaned slightly back, staring at her in mild confusion, before he facepalmed quietly. In the background, Drovu was watching, less focused on what they were supposed to be doing, and more entertained by the show before them.

“Imagine that the Light is represented by the feathers. And the Dark is the stone. Do you understand now?”

“Be floaty?” Cal said, earning a snicker from Caleb. He shrugged, unrepentant, before wrapping his arms around himself. “Feels floaty.”

“I want you to meditate on the nature of balance,” Jaro instructed. “Using your objects of focus. Tell me what you feel.”

“And Jedi.”

“And Jedi.”

“Iil bika,” Cal muttered, hugging his knees to his chest. The other Initiates supplied looks of confusion, and Drovu, who didn’t understand Dai Bendu any more than the viewers or camera-droid did, kept their eyes shut, concentrating on what they’d been told to do. “Iilem.”

“Orhma,” Ahsoka countered. Jaro was not convinced by whatever Ahsoka said. He leaned forwards and settled a hand over Cal’s forehead. Or rather, a pair of fingers, as the boy was the smallest of the group of Initiates, and fully-grown lasat’s were a great deal bigger than most fully-grown humans, in any case.

“Ibli rah'eni kat fehl, keel ormha,” he assured the boy, who shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself a bit more. The room was full of shadow, but the camera-droid focused in on his face a bit more, letting the viewers see him clearer.

“Iil foh,” he insisted. “Ibli sooah enoctak, orhma foh.”

“Barriss, lead the meditation,” Jaro instructed, gathering Cal up in one arm. Cal squirmed, protesting, but a hushed few words quieted him, and he went still, leaning his head against Jaro’s chest. “I’ll be taking ibli Cal to the Halls.”

“Haj dai!” Cal protested, starting to try and break free again. “Haj dai! Sooah orhma foh, maya foh! Kewan, haj dai!”

“Haj dai,” Jaro repeated, and Cal groaned, dropping his head back against Jaro’s chest, as the lasat began to leave the room. He groaned again, louder, more pained, holding a hand to his temple.

Drovu scrambled to their feet, followed by the camera-droid, and headed after the pair. Jaro was murmuring quietly to Cal, switching between Dai Bendu and Basic, mentioning a broken leg and being honest.

“Sedorem foh,” Cal mumbled, hiding his face in Jaro’s shoulder. The previous odd behaviour made a bit more sense, at the revelation that Cal was either sick or injured.

“Mm.”

“Jaieh...”

“Padawan…”

“Padawan?”

“Leo’lo.”

“Jaieh.”

The shot paused, the camera-droid, and Drovu, pausing, and Drovu stepping out of frame. The camera-droid followed Jaro and Cal’s journey down the hall, one of the other Jedi stepping up to the pair, and setting a hand on Cal’s forehead, before allowing them to continue.

 _ < I think I’ll let this episode speak for itself, > _ Drovu said wryly. _ < There’s not much I can really say that you don’t already know, is there? And I do believe that I'll take up meditation as a more regular thing. > _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Sii:** The Dark Side of the Force used by the Sith
> 
>  **Kan je:** Roughly translates to “mystic run”, which is the closest thing I could piece together for instinctive astrogation; the ability to instinctively navigate through space without the need for a map. From “kan”, which means “run”, and “je”, which means “mystic”.
> 
>  **Tumi mikah jaieh Jocasta Nu, Anohrah kytal rah'eni:** Essentially translates to “I am called Jocasta Nu of the Jedi Temple, Sister of the Light”. Since Dai Bendu is all about mental impressions and context and a word just being a sound, but not the real meaning, she’s really saying she’s a member of the Jedi Order, where she is recognized as being worthy of the title of Master, and she is an ally of the Light Side of the Force.
> 
>  **Mimayaah fahk keelak sedorem:** Entrust me with your truth.
> 
>  **Ibli rahienel kat fehl:** My younger siblings
> 
>  **Mikewanal:** Meditate together
> 
>  **Heleo:** Form of sorry, only stronger, begging for forgiveness
> 
>  **Iilem:** Original name for Ilum, eventually got changed over time, due to some mistranslations and the lack of Dai Bendu speakers outside of the Jedi Order
> 
>  **Kanan:** Runner
> 
>  **Iil bika:** It’s freezing here.
> 
>  **Iilem:** Ice.
> 
>  **Ormha:** Warmth
> 
>  **Ibli raheniel kat fehl, keel orhma:** My little brother, you’re warm.
> 
>  **Iil foh:** I’m freezing.
> 
>  **Ibli sooah enoctak, orhma foh:** It’s just a little pain, I’m fine
> 
>  **Sooah orhma foh, maya foh:** “I’m warm, trust me” or “I feel fine, believe me”
> 
>  **Sedorem foh:** Trust me
> 
>  **Leo’ahlo:** I know it through my visions; less direct, more metaphorical
> 
> The more I write this story, the more sappy and poetic it gets. But guess what? I don’t care, because if I cared, I probably would be studying and working on my ELA homework but I’m not, so ha!
> 
> Nebyap is my excuse to fuck around with Jedi shit and give Jocasta a bit of under-the-radar BAMF time. I literally created it based on nothing at all. Jocasta is fucking insane though, if I was a Jedi, I would want her to be my Master; what’s not to like? She’s smart, she runs the LIBRARY, and she’s willing to do whatever it takes to protect people.
> 
> I do know that Cal, Caleb, Barriss, and Ahsoka's ages don't line up right, but if I cared about that sort of thing, you wouldn't be reading this, would you?
> 
> Ashla is a name for the light side, Bendu for the middle, and Bogan for the dark. The Winged Goddess and the Fanged God are canon, but I couldn’t find anything for Bendu/Father, so I made up the Old Monarch.
> 
> And yes, I named the tooka Jedi.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://js71.tumblr.com/post/624273937698865152/submit-requests)!


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